


It's all Lies, Darling

by Luce_cm



Series: "It's all Lies, Darling" Universe [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s, 2000s, ANYHOW, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Flash Forward, Flashbacks, OC insertion, anything could make steve blush, but well, language warning, ohh and she swears a lot, she could make steve blush, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2018-10-07 14:24:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 43
Words: 68,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10362429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luce_cm/pseuds/Luce_cm
Summary: “Tell me where he is.” She repeated to the redhead, and earned a smile in return that told her she had revealed something without meaning to.“Will you run away or towards him?”“Don't toy with me, little spider. Remember who taught you everything you know.” The blond woman hissed near Natasha's ear.“I remember, and that is why I want him away from you.”Azure barked a laugh.“He taught you to fight. I taught you to survive.”





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything except my own characters. Hell, I don't even own this story, considering the chars do whatever they want in there, so...

“Please, tell me she is not another one of your friends, Agent Romanoff. We had enough with Loki's wife last year.” Fury hissed at the spy, not looking at her, but keeping his gaze ahead, at the cell where a small blonde girl was sitting.

“She is not.”

“And why should I believe you? She knew you.” The Director barked back, and Natasha frowned at him, her eyes glowing with the hidden pain and anger she kept close to her heart since the Red Room itself.

“She is a spy, she knows everyone.”

With a bitter laugh, the Director waved a hand at the prisoner's direction, showing the thin, pale girl with big eyes. She watched every corner of the cell with fear as if something were to jump out of the shadows to reach her.

“Are you telling me _she_ is an enemy agent?”

With a smile of her own, Natasha answered;

“Are you familiar with 'Azure', Director Fury? A Black Widow trainer, the only high-ranking woman within Hydra, the Winter Soldier's Handler?”

“Yes. She's a myth.”

A chuckle left the spy's lips.

“Yes, well that myth is inside that cell, Director. And the another 'myth' is coming after her.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii, thanks for giving my story a shot! This will probably (PROBABLY, because I told myself the same thing about mi Loki fic) be a sort of short story, though multichaptered.  
> I know I have yet to update on Of Gods and Monsters, but Loki and Sayeh refused to talked to me until I listened to Bucky and Azure for a while tho.  
> Anyhow, please tell me what you think, I would love to hear your thoughts (even if they are not that good, I want to get better)!  
> Hope you enjoy,  
> Love, Luce

_1942, Moscow._

“You have to understand, if you just let me...”

“Miss, with all due respect, I cannot let you go into a warzone all by yourself. No matter who your parents were, or who your brothers are, I cannot possibly let you do that.” The man behind the desk repeated for what it felt like the thousandth time. Anya resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Just because every other soldier in this nation is a coward doesn’t mean I am. I will go to Smolensk, one way or another, Sir.”

“No one will willingly get you there, Ma’am, it is a suicide mission.”

“The same in which you sent your best _frontovik_ , the same in which you sent one of my brothers to die and the other to be captured by those damned _nemets!_ ”

“You cannot lead a rescue squad to your brother’s prison, ma’am. There is not enough information on their reclusive centers.”

Anya stared at the man for a few seconds, her ice blue eyes widened in furious disbelief, to then slowly, very slowly, say:

“You are telling me, a Goddamned _Krasnyy Orkestr_ that there is not enough information on Nazi movements? Truly? You owe us Stalingrad, pricks.”

The man gulped, making her smile, but quickly turned his eyes back at the papers in his hands.

“I cannot assist you further, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Anya Ludkov nodded.

“I…understand. Excuse me.”

Her government wouldn’t give her answers? Fine, she had no nationality whatsoever. The daughter of a former spy had ways of obtaining information, anyways.

What could she do, but betray an idea in the name of family?

__

Considering how her parents had raised her, Anya can only imagine how disappointed they would be at her right now.

She can even picture her father scowling at her:

“ _If you had thought before acting, Anushka, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Chyort!”_

But then her mother would sweep in, with a knowing smile in her full lips, and place a comforting hand in her husband’s shoulder. She would then turn to their daughter, and tell her, with the voice of a former “Night Witch” official and yet the smile of a knowing mother to get up, clean the dust off her ass, and continue fighting.

The letter lies in her hands, worn and crumbled from the times she took it out of her pocket and read it again. And again.

Whoever sent it knew intimately that her time was running out. She had the Union at her back, the States after her trail of blood, and the Fuhrer searching the last member of the Ludkov family. She had been running for four months now, after nearly being captured at a Soviet facility, stealing information for the Americans in exchange for information on prisoners camps that belonged to the Nazi armada.

So now someone,  _something_ , offered Anya the chance at infiltrating Nazi information facilities, and discovering the location of her brother and his squad. They gave her the location, ideal times for the break-in, guard and high-ranking officers’ information; and all they asked in return was for her to erase all evidence, physical and digital as well, of a division of the Fuhrer’s scientific program.

But steeling her heart, she considered her options. Her country had betrayed her,  _war_ had betrayed her; and she was nothing but a traitor and a deserter now.

They let them take her  _brother,_ how could she remain loyal after such a thing?

How could her be true after that?

_It's all lies, darling._

__

_2014, New York_

“Oh, c'mon, Steve!” Clint pushed, earning a laugh from the Captain.

“Scared, _sailor?_ ” Natasha taunted as well. With a huff, and shaking his head, Steve stood up and joined Tony on the table. The billionaire had the right arm of his suit on, and a cocking grin on his face, that widened when the Captain accepted the challenge.

Laughing and cheering could be heard all over the compound, but was suddenly silent when a young woman walked into the room with an apologetic look on her face.

She wore stylish jeans and a red velvet blouse, alongside tall, black stilettos. Her blonde hair on a bun that seemed to be falling over one side of her head, and light make-up on her young face.

“Hi...” She said, waving a hand at the dumbfounded Avengers. Focusing her gaze on Natasha, she raised her voice, “Listen, Natalia, I...”

The first gunshot was heard and silence followed it as blonde and redhead stared at each other; but after it, five more came on a row, not seconds between them. 

“Nat!?” Clint yelled over the gunshots, but the spy kept advancing towards the girl, that kept dodging bullets and taking cover as she could. Natasha held the gun firmly, but a fear that no one had seen before shone in her green eyes.

“Why are you here!?” The redhead demanded, stepping over a coffee table as she approached the crouched woman.

“If you weren't shooting at me I may tell you!”

“Give me a reason not to shoot you then.”

“I just gave you one! Fuck!” The blond yelled back, and the sound of a gun being reloaded filled the room, “Natalia, stop! I need your help, that's why I am here!”

The Captain stepped ahead then, and tried to assess a situation none of the other Avengers seemed to understand.

“Natasha, stop it. She is harmless.” Steve ordered, a commanding tone on his voice.

“That is correct. Our guest seems to carry no fireguns with her.” The electrical voice of Jarvis provided, to which Natasha only laughed with a slightly maniacal edge that prompted Clint and Steve to share a concerned look.

“She is not _harmless,_ ” The Black Widow spit the word, and assessed her with a frown. Then, facing the girl's blue eyes, she added, “He is not here.”

The frightened expression of the girl turned into a smile, slowly, but surely. Quicker than any of them could respond, she threw a small knife at Natasha, and it embedded itself on her hand, taking away her gun and pinning her to nearby wall.

The spy hid her cry of pain, and in seconds the girl in the red blouse was on her, placing a hand on her hips and playing with a double-sided dagger with the other.

“Tell me where and I leave your life.” She whispered.

“Fuck you, Azure.” Natasha whispered back.

“If I had the time, I would let you. But, as you see, I have a mission,” The blond smiled as if chatting with an old friend. But, when the Captain took a step ahead, towards them, she turned her head back and hissed, “One more step and I slit her throat right here. Why did you think I wore red?”

“Calm down.” The Captain advised slowly. Or was it demanded? Azure still did not understand tones that well.

“Tell me where he is.” She repeated to the redhead, and earned a smile in return that told her she had revealed something without meaning to.

“Will you run away or towards him?”

“Don't toy with me, little spider. Remember who taught you everything you know.” The blond woman hissed near Natasha's ear.

“I remember, and that is why I want him away form you.”

Azure barked a laugh.

“He taught you to fight. I taught you to survive.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I have to update my other stories, that's why I'm uploading this one as it goes, instead of having a schedule. Consider this could work in either direction: new chapters each day, or one per week. Beware, hehe  
> Anyways, hope you enjoy!

_1944, Poland_

“Are you implying you are willing to betray us?”

Anya -or rather, Azure now- shook her head with a faint smile on her lips.

“I don't imply. I _assure_ you that you either take me to the soviet prisoners or I go by myself. And you do not want me to go by myself.”

“Don't threaten us, girl. You are nothing but...”

“But your best infiltrator and spy.” She interrupted, a sweet smile on her lips, and confidence in her eyes as she stared back at her superior's eyes.

“If this is about your brother...”

“What else could this be about, sir?” She returned to the respect and distance once they started going where she wanted them to.

The pair of men shared a quick glance and the Commander finally turned to her.

“He is dead, Miss Ludkov.”

Anya barked a laugh.

“No, he is not. He is being held prisoner, in a German camp near Smolensk, and you had him moved to Azanno for...” She started, a slightly desperate edge on her usually melodic voice.

“Extraction, yes. And he was killed two weeks ago, alongside many prisoners.” The Commander finished for her, but she had started shaking her head before he even finished speaking.

“No, no, he was sent there because it was a strictly Hydra base, not Nazi. You granted him protection until his release.” She pressed, cerulean eyes now big and almost childish in their hope and despair.

“It was raided by Americans two weeks ago, Miss.”

But Anya kept shaking her head.

“No...” She whispered, and just then, her mother's words, mixed with her brother's voice, came to mind.

_If it's not to fool them into safety, never show a 'woman's' expression on your face, Anushka. In a world of men, being a woman is a fault, a mistake._

_It's all lies, darling, and if you want to survive, you must be a lie too._

So she took a deep breath and steeled her heart.

“You have our condolences, Miss Ludkov.” The other man spoke out for the first time, to which Azure answered with a curt nod.

“I appreciate it, Sir.”

“Now that your presence here is in-consequential to your purpose, we can have you translated to another location until you...handle your emotions.”

Resisting the urge to spit on their faces for offering that sort of thing to her when they wouldn't even think of offering it to a man, Azure forced a crooked smile on her face, and faced the men.

“You said Americans raided the station?” She asked, and they nodded in response. “I assume you have intel on them.”

“The 107th. Most of them dead, though some were captured.”

“One location?”

“Most of them, yes. The Austrian Alps.”

“Then you have my new location, Sir.”

–

2014, New York

“Let me guess: you pissed of an official and they sent the Winter Soldier after you.” Natasha taunted, eyes focused solely on Azure even as the nurse banded her injured hand.

After Clint had shot at the woman harming Natasha and the Captain had stood in between, protecting with his shield, the situation had...calmed down.

That is, they took Azure 'prisoner' and set Natasha as her guard dog. Fury was on his way, they said, and he would decide what to do with her.

Azure made a non-committal noise at the spy's question, and twisted her lips.

“Yeah, that's...not entirely wrong.”

With a sigh, Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose.

“What did you do?”

“I killed two officers. I was relieved of my charge as his Handler, and, by the way, look at what happens when they give some useless fuck my job!” The girl finished with a wide gesture that signaled the event in New York with the infiltration, an event whose consequences could still be seen, as the compound was now Tony Stark's, instead of Shield's, like it should have been.

“Why did you do it?” Natasha asked, with a tone that spoke of how she saw Azure as a child sometimes.

“I don't deal well with authority. Or...overbearing authority.” She answered simply, prompting the other woman to narrow her big eyes.

“What happened?”

“I was away from the main headquarters for a while, you know this.” Azure stated, and her former student nodded her head once.

“Training us, yes.”

“Well, let's say things had changed when I returned 'home'. And I don't settle particularly well with changes.”

“Do I want to know?”

Azure's smile turned vicious, primal even.

“No, you don't.”

__

1944, Austrian Alps

Lohmer was showing Azure the facility as if she were but a mere guest, and not the official Hydra's headquarters had provided to supervise the operations in the armament installation. But, men were creatures of habit, and having a woman within the high ranks of their precious Hydra, Azure mused, must hurt their ego deeply.

“I was actually sent to supervise the human experimentation program, not the manual work, Colonel.” She said, but the older man only chuckled and shook his head.

“But first I need you to understand the kind of work that takes place here, girl. You have to see our system before you write home about it.”

Clenching her jaw, she swallowed her words and followed the man through dirty and cramped halls, where the prisoners stared at the young woman dressed in a polka-dot black and white dress as if she were something out of their imaginations.

As they walked, the Colonel was interrupted by an officer of the underground itself, and stopped to discuss whatever they had to figure out paying no mind to Azure or her actual timetable.

She took that time to study the structure, taking note of the lowly-placed vapor conducts, that purposely dehydrated the workers -prisoners- quicker. It was a good technique if they had a constant flow of war prisoners, but considering their location and the war situation right now, it was a risky move.

Too concerned about the plumbing and wall structure of the halls where the prisoners transported ammunition and similar goods, aside form the products of the mine itself; Azure felt too late the hand that came too close to her.

Reacting blindly, she diverted the hand by hitting a thin forearm, and pulled back the briefcase they had tried to touch.

Staring back at red-rimmed and tired eyes, she softened her posture and her gaze. A boy, that could not be older than 17 years old stared back at her, almost crouching to hide himself from the hit that never came.

She studied his facial features, but could not discern his origins considering how horribly bruised and swollen the right side of his face was.

“Yes?” She prompted, stealing a quick glance to the Colonel to avoid being seen as...oh, God, this was unbelievable, as a _woman_.

The boy answered in broken English, though she had stated her question in German.

“W-Water, you have?”

“Yes, yes I do.” She whispered back, and opened her bag to take the small bottle of water she kept for plane rides, and a few tasteless cookies she had made the mistake of buying on the train station.

The boy eyed the food and the bottle in distrust, as if he did not actually expect her to respond, or give him what he asked for.

She insisted wordlessly, stealing a glance back at Lohmer. Finally, the boy took them, and while swallowing the water in big gulps, hid the cookies in every small crevice he could find within the rumpled and broken clothes he had on his back.

A loud noise took Azure's attention away from the boy, and she quickly hid the bottle he had given back empty back in her bag, and turned to the commotion.

Colonel Lohmer had clenched his jaw and his hand was twisted in a fist, in the same dangerous way his lips twisted to a snarl. On the floor at his feet lay hundreds of bullets and different munitions, spread over from a cart.

A few feet away, a soldier, well-build considering the place they were in, lay on his knees, coughing weakly and trying to stay upright.

Azure guided her eyes once more to the Colonel, and saw him gesture his head to his guards, who started prodding the fallen prisoner with kicks and hits to get up.

_Really, horrible techniques_. Azure thought to herself. _You have little to no healthy and strong men in your prisoners ward, and you are beating the life away of one of them, who, by the way is not laying back and deciding not to do his job, is dying of pneumonia or worse._

_Really, how stupid can they be? Cruelty ends when your utility for the one you are torturing ends. Then, it's just stupidity and being a sick bastard._

The whole passageway had fallen silent and observed with sick curiosity how it would turn up.

A particularly hard kick to the prisoner's stomach had him falling over and coughing again, this time in a wet fashion that for some reason worried Azure.

A deep male voice disrupted the cryptic silence:

“C'mon, Jimmy! Up!”

“Fuck you, Dum Dum.” The prisoner spat back, getting back on his hands and knees. This called for a laugh among the men that a glare from the expecting Colonel Lohmer promptly dissipated.

_God, this man is an asshole._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii! This sad little author wants to ask your big reader opinion on her work! Please, pretty please, let me know what you think!  
> It's hard sometimes to keep writing something that yes, I write for you as well as for me, and not knowing if you like it or not, if you think I could do better or if it is fine.  
> So pleeease let me know what you think, and don't make me beg again for effing reviews, I don't like to.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii, anyhow, Lohmer and some of the events at the Austrian Hydra Facility where Bucky and the rest of the Commandos are after their attack on Azanno and Hydra are based on the comic (Cap first vengeance), but I want to make a disclaimer: I haven't read the actual comics, but 'novelistic adaptations' of 'em soo...I would deeply appreciate if you would tell me if I'm wrong at something.  
> Anyhow! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think on the comments section below!

_1944, Austrian Alps_

Giving herself a small pep-talk of courage inside her mind, Azure straightened her back and cleared her throat. Just as the guard lifted his fist to hit the prisoner again, she spoke, switching quickly from German to English:

“Oh, come on, dear. No need for violence!” She intoned sweetly, smiling a the dumbfounded guards. Standing next to one of them, she forced a wink and signaled the reunited prisoners around them with her chin, “We can't have that sort of spectacle with a lady present, can we?” She asked, setting blue eyes on the prisoner and raising and eyebrow. In a more genuine tone that she had hoped to hear form herself, she said, “James, please stand up.”

The young man, with short brown hair and square jaw stared back, but seeing as the guards had stopped their onslaught, nodded once.

“Miss Ludkov, _stand back,_ ” Lohmer spat from some place behind her, but with her brother in mind, she refused, and instead extended her hand at James. “Miss Ludkov!”

Once the soldier had taken her arm and stood up, Azure turned to Lohmer with a small smile as the guards pushed James back into the mine and signaled the other prisoners to keep working.

“My name is Azure.” She hissed back at the Colonel.

He backhanded her with enough strength to send her to the floor, a cut now on her cheek due to the ring he wore on his right hand.

Silence reigned again in the hall, and Anya turned her head slowly back to the colonel, her beautiful dress now stained with dirt and soil. The Colonel stared back at her blue eyes, and she gave him one last chance.

“I am your superior, Lohmer.”

“You are a woman, you know nothing of war. Don't pretend you can come into _my_ prison and dictate the rules...”

“I know more than you know...”

“Opening your legs in front of a General does not qualify as field work, sweet girl.” The man spat back.

Clenching her jaw and fighting the horrible shame that came over her, even though that was not true, Azure eyed the guard next to her and faked a sweet smile.

“Help me up, darlin'?”

The guard rushed to pick her up, and watched her as if he expected a praise or a treat, so when she nodded in thanks and smiled again, he quieted down like a happy pup.

_Men were so predictable._

“If you are so comfortable around lesser men, bitch, stay with 'em.”

Lohmer raised his chin, as if expecting defiance, but Azure would not give him the satisfaction. At her silence, he nodded once and signaled the guards to follow him once more, leaving her behind.

With the sultriest tone she could muster, Azure raised her voice and said:

“As you wish, _Colonel_ ,” Seeing him turn around back towards her, with fury in his eyes and the obvious intention of hitting her again, Azure raised a hand between them, and keeping her sweet and flirty tone added, switching back to English: “If you want to keep that useless sack you have under your shame of a cock bound to your body, I suggest you do not take another step towards me, you pitiful fuck.”

 _Now_ that _was satisfying._

Lohmer remained silent for a few instants, but then nodded once and turned his back on the soviet girl.

But before he left, he turned his head to one of his guards and spoke again loud enough for everyone -Azure included- to hear:

“Bring Barnes to me when you are done. I'm going to show him what happens when you don't do your job the way you're supposed to.”

_2014, New York_

“Why pretend to be harmless, though?” Natasha questioned,the two spies talking to each other, not as the enemies Natalia swore they were, or the distant teacher and student they were to Azure; but rather as...acquaintances, maybe even friends.

“You remember my techniques, back when we were both your teachers?” Azure prodded, crossing one leg over the other with a faint smile on your lips.

“I saw you beat each and every agent, Azure, even...”

“Yes, but how did I beat James in close combat?”

“You pretended he was really hurting you,” Natasha whispered, a strange kind of awe coloring her otherwise melodic voice. “You pretended. And he stopped.”

“Yes.”

A small, almost proud smile curved the blond woman's lips. And, of course, Natasha noticed.

Azure had trained her herself, of course she would notice.

“Though, that doesn't answer my question. Why pretend now?”

“I did not know you were unaware of his location, Natalia.” The blond woman explained with a small sigh.

“You thought he was here.”

“Yes, and to this day, there's only one man I cannot beat, dear.” She said, a small smile curving her pink lips upwards.

“What makes you think he would hesitate to kill you now?” Natasha asked, and saw something change in her former teacher's face, turning a trusting and relaxed posture and expression into something predatory, and honestly, quite frightening. But, she pushed on, “He didn't hesitate to try to kill Steve.”

“The man he called 'Bucky' is not the Soldat. He may have been, once, a long time before, but they are completely separate now. What he knows is Hydra, your world and mine, dear.”

“He didn't hesitate to try to kill me, either.”

The blond woman let out a cold laugh.

“You may have been his student, little love, albeit his favorite one, but do not _ever_ think you can compare to _me._ ” Anya Ludkov hissed, dangerously low.

The icy-blue eyes of her teacher held her own, almost daring Natasha to challenge her. And if the red-head spy didn't know better, she would call it jealousy.

Deciding to push her luck, Natasha leaned over, resting her elbows on her knees and focusing on Azure's icy-blue eyes.

“Why do you care?”

“About him? I don't.”

A laugh escaped the redhead's full lips.

“Really?”

“Don't project your childish ideas on me and my life, Natalia.” The other woman sneered, standing up and causing a nearby agent in the med bay to nervously look around, as if the procedure protocol for brainwashed-but-apparently-not-spy-slash-assassin-apears-and-drinks-tea-with-the-most-frightening-woman-in-Shield-since-Carter.

Thankfully, the Captain himself crossed the door just when the blond spy seemed to be seriously considering cutting Natasha's head off.

“Ma'am?” Steve said, stepping into the room and nodding at the 'prisoner' in greeting, “May I have a word with you?”

_1944, Austrian Alps_

After shooting off a toe from one asshole that though she was there for the grabbing, the prisoners behaved themselves almost flawlessly in front of the new addition.

Azure studied the patterns in the prisoners' labor, and soon grabbed a cart and started loading ammo in it, unloaded it in the marked location. The first times they saw her with an armful of bullets and mini-nukes, most men offered her help in English, or even some in oddly-pronounced Russian; but they stopped thinking she needed her assistance when -by the third consecutive offer of letting her rest- she swept her feet under a soldier's legs and threw him to the floor, muttering 'you go fucking rest' and continuing on her job. And so on.

It was nightfall when the other 'shift' relieved them.

A tall and muscular man with a small bowling hat on the top of his head approached Azure.

“Hey,” He said, and she raised an eyebrow in question, without uttering a single word. He cocked his head to the side, still walking beside her towards the rooms -cells, cages, whatever they prefer to call them, they are still useless pieces of metal-, and continued, “So, Barnes, you knew him?”

“Barnes...the one Lohmer has probably killed by now?” She mused, and at his nod, shook her head. “No.”

 _Actually,_ Anya thought to herself _, considering they are American soldiers, probably all that's left of the 107 th, the damned squad that killed the last of my family, I should have..._

With a small sigh, she ended her internal rant against herself and her own decisions.

It wasn't America that had done her wrong, or even the 107 th . It wasn't her country, or even Hydra or the Nazis.

No, it was war. War had broken and betrayed her. It had been war, in any of its forms, whether it is a fight between a Night Witch and her husband over her return to the front; or a brother holding his sister's shoulders tightly, yelling at her to stop crying but with tears in his eyes himself, the body of their father slumped in the bathroom, a bloody gun on his lifeless hand; or having the last remnants of your life before War had thorn itself in your life in front of you, before your mother went away and died, and your father refused to live in a world that did not have her in it, or having your oldest brother sent away to a land of ice by his own country not because he betrayed it, but because he _returned_ , its having that last remnant of your life as it was and having to say goodbye in the midst of a full train station, holding back tears because of the words in your head about how you can't give war the satisfaction of seeing you broken. It had been War that betrayed her, that betrayed all of them.

“What's it to you, though, sugar?” She asked with a half smile on her lips. The other man breathed a laugh and shook his head, as if distracting himself from her.

“A dame that after 12 hours of hard work can look that alluring...damn, Jimmy got lucky.” He mused, and as Azure opened her mouth to answer, another voice interrupted them.

“You...know, Dum-Dum, I wouldn't...c-call myself lucky n-now.” James rasped, erasing the smiles in both Azure and the other man's faces. A fit of wet cough followed James words, “And I told...you to call m-me Bu...cky.”

Azure followed the sound of his voice, and found herself in front of one of the cells, seeing his beaten form in a cot on the floor.

“Well, you look like shit.” She stated, earning a weak laugh.

“P-Pleasure meeting...you too, Doll.”

She frowned.

“Don't call me that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you Anya swore a lot.  
> And if any of you are following or know of my other fic, I know I haven't been updating lately, but I plan on returning full-on after April 6th. Or hopefully before. I'm sorry if I've let anyone hanging!  
> AAAnd, thanks for sticking to the end!  
> Love, Luce.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Note the add-on on the Relationships section ;)  
> I really don't know how it happened. They just do whatever they want here, hehe.

_2014, New York_

Azure eyed the Captain, and made sure to put on a big, sweet smile when she walked towards him and extended her hand.

She didn't know much about him, true, but she knew enough from his fighting style and the way he spoke like an actual 90-year-old even though he was mentally 30 in front of other people to know that he had this...two sides about him; one being Captain America and the other one a man out of time.

She knew immediately which one to aim for if she wanted to survive her meeting with either Shield or Hydra.

“Of course, Mr. Rogers. I've always wanted to meet you, actually. You are my work-out role model, did you know?” She let out a flirty laugh as the Captain shook her hand, and continued, “You know, being put in an oven and getting out looking like...well, let's just say you look pretty well for a...ninety-four-year-old man?” She ended her last statement as a question, pretending not to be actually sure of Steven Grant Rogers, an agent with Grade 8 clearance's, actual age.

But, everything it's a lie, even life itself.

The blond man chuckled, and glanced down for a second before nodding.

“Yes, ma'am,” At his response, Azure raised a brown in a silent question of 'Oh, really?', and the man from Brooklyn quickly rushed to explain, “N-Not that I think, that I agree with you about...what you said. I-I was talking about my age, ma'am.”

This -and the adorable blush in the Captain's cheeks- prompted a genuine laugh from the former Hydra-agent, and she placed a gentle hand on his forearm, and squeezed.

“I got what you meant,” She said, “Though, you _should_ agree with me, Mr. Rogers.”

He smiled in thanks, and nodded again.

Before wither could speak, though, Natasha's voice interrupted them, cold and fierce in her protectiveness.

“Don't even _try_ , Azure.” The redhead hissed, and the blonde woman only watched her from the corner of her eye.

“Try what, my dear?”

In swift Russian, Natasha answered,

“ _Don't try your games on him, Azure. He's...just leave him alone._ ”

“ _Who says I'm playing? I'm a really nice person, Natalia._ ”

With a chuckle, the other woman shook her head, and switched unconsciously back to English.

“You...really aren't.”

“How can you know? It's all lies.”

And with that, Azure turned her attention back to the man on front of her, and offered a small smile.

“You wanted to talk to me, Mr. Rogers?”

“Yes. But please, call me Steve, Ms...”

For a second, for an small, terrifying second, Azure swore he had no name other than the one they had given her all those decades ago. For a second, she was no more of a person than the man that stood in front of Captain America in that helicarrier and did not falter.

For a second, but the kind blue in his eyes told her of a million other stories that could be told about her, about the world; so she swallowed and whispered:

“Ludkov. Anya Ludkov.”

__

_1944, Austrian Alps_

“He is going to be dead by tomorrow night if Lohmer makes him work, Timothy.” Azure stated in a whisper, sitting across the kind man with the bowling hat, the bars separating their cells.

It was almost daybreak, but neither Anya nor Dum Dum were ready to sleep. The later, primarily because she had toed at his back for a full half hour before he woke up and had whispered: “You have to get Lohmer to listen to me.”

“I told you already: Dum Dum. I hate my given name. And what do you expect me to do about the Colonel, kiddo?”

“I don't know, just...he doesn't listen to me.” Her words were an angry hiss at the end, almost rage at the possibility of the Colonel of thinking he could do what he wanted with her in the other side.

“I wouldn't know why, you have every man here following your every whim like you're a bitch in heat.”

“Hey!” She whispered, a frown on her face, her low-heeled shoe flying to the man's head and knocking the hat off. At his dumbfounded expression, she heaved a laugh,but suddenly stopped when this prompted James, whose head was now on her lap, to start another weak cough-fit.

She lowered her gaze at him, rubbing a small circle on his upper-back, wishing that the coughing would not start again, as he had only calmed down enough to sleep a couple of hours ago.

The man in front of her watched with interest, and said:

“I still find it hard to accept that you don't know 'im, kid.”

Now ash-covered blond hair was breathed away from Anya's face as she smiled slightly at Dum Dum.

“I have to know him to be nice?”

“I have just met you, Doll, and I can already tell you are not 'nice' unless there's something in it for ya',” His eyes sparkle with mirth, making her roll her eyes.

“Truth is, Lohmer is an actual piece of shit. Like, eaten-and-then-barfed horse shit. I saw an opportunity to make him understand that _my_ rules apply when I say so, and I took it. That is: I offered James help. He got beaten to a pulp because of it, and I don't like being in debt to anyone.”

“I doubt he would track you down for a payment, doll.”

“It's not about that,” She barked back, fire igniting in those icy-blue eyes, “Women have honor too, Timothy.”

The man rose his hands in the air, smiling calmly at the girl.

“Hey, any dame who can hold their own in a fight like you do, are as honorable as any man to me. Hell, even better.”

“If you ruin this by making a comment about my breasts I'm out.” She muttered, and he laughed in response.

“I'm startin' to like you, kiddo.”

__

She and Dum Dum had convinced the other soldiers to move one of the oldest prisoners, a British General, to the cell next to James', and refused to make them get up when the shift bell rang. They were in no conditions to work, and everyone knew it.

So, when one of the guards came looking for them, he found Azure standing casually in front of the American, toying with a Vibranium-aloy knife he knew she could only have gotten from being in the highest places inside Hydra.

He took a careful step towards her, and she smiled, slowly.

“Try to get near them and I'll cut your balls off and feed them to you,” Her voice didn't lose the velvety and sensual tone it always seemed to have, and she rose one eyebrow, “'Kay, pumpkin?”

He nodded, once, and stepped back.

Of course he would get Lohmer. Of course. She should have known better.

Her mother would have berated her carelessness for days.

__

_2014, New York_

Fury wanted her in a cage, Natasha wanted her dead, and the Captain wanted her looking for James.

Hence, they kept her in a cage until they decided to kill her or send her after a ghost.

_Marvelous._

And considering Fury _shouldn't be there_ , because of the whole 'Things got fucked up. I'm out, kids.' ordeal, Azure was actually quite flattered that they had called their previous director to decide together what to do with her.

Yeah, it was all very...interesting.

Considering she had been the trainer of the deadliest member of their team, she expected they would at least be more weary of her, but noo. She put on the big doe eyes and a little less sway of her hips on her walk and both Banner and Fury watched over her like she was their daughter.

And Stark too, if you count the fact that he is now standing in the other side of the open cell, throwing a wink at her.

“C'mon, kiddo. I won't tell.”

“You are letting me out?”

“For breakfast. Everyone deserves a good breakfast!” He sing-sang, turning his back at her and strolling in the direction of what she assumed was the kitchen.

“Well, I've had weirder mornings.” She muttered under her breath, but Tony turned to her with a lopsided smile.

“And now I wanna hear all about them,” He said, and before he turned his back at her once again, he added, “And don't try to make a run for it, kiddo. You can try, but you can't charm an AI out of having custody like you did with Capsicle last night.”

“I...uh...”

“Gotcha.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and yes, shameless self-promotion right...there \/\/\/ (Imagine an arrow pointing down because I apparently lack the skill to type one)

_2014, New York_

“A Goddess. An actual Goddess.” Azure stated, elbows resting on the counter, leaning closer to Tony, and he only nodded in response.

“Yep. Bit weird girl, but you get that when you find out who she's married to. But a good kid, with a few bad choices on the way,” His voice was laded with the usual acid chirpiness that defined him, but became more serious when he continued, “Much like you, I would say.”

A weak laugh left her lips.

“I know you are a smart man, so you have made the connections, Mr. Stark. I am not...part of the good guys.”

“If you are not, why are you here? Because I checked, under both of your names, and there is no evidence that you even existed, girl. So you know what you are doing, and you are not here by chance.”

She knew this, she knew she had erased her track on every place she could find, and her legend had died quickly, like a strangled fire, within Hydra. After all, she had dared leave them, and though they would track down the Soldat, they would never track her; they couldn't afford losing a _woman_ , she knew this, and this made them weak.

Shield, were it to have known of her, would have used every method known to men to find her, because there would have been no difference in their eyes.

That was, actually, one of the first things that turned out to be quite...shocking of the 21st century. When she left Hydra for good, nearly two years before the Soldat did the same, she learned that she could not as easily fool people, especially men, into doing her biding. They were learning, she figured out, to consider her a threat as much as a man, and see her as dangerous as one; so they kept their barriers up.

It fucked her up at first, and she had to...adjust, but it made her oddly proud of humanity.

But considering Tony's question again, Anya turned her head to the side, and shrugged her shoulders.

“I left Hydra behind, yes, but that doesn't excuse my sins, Mr Stark. I suppose I seek...redemption.”

“But why here?”

She forced a smile unto her full lips, icy-blue eyes showing anger and pain in equal parts.

“I faced the abyss once, and I survived. I will face it again, but I know I will not come out whole, or even alive. I need to find someone to...”

Stark forced levity on the situation, and said,

“Carry on the legacy of ass-kicking?”

“Take care of those I leave behind.”

__

_1944, Austrian Alps_

Lohmer was dead. Neither she nor the prisoners had thought much about it when he started taking men from the working area and never returning them back under.

Azure was dead, too. In the eyes of Hydra, or so they had said when they started suspecting she had anything to do with the death of their Colonel.

She was...gone, or would be in a few weeks. They had sent her with Zola, and she _knew_ the men they sent with him did not return. They had taken some of the British prisoners, and a few Americans, too. James among them.

For some reason, she kept feeling guilty about his fate.

So Zola had her now sitting on a medical bench, an IV connected to her arm, and a bunch of...medical things attached to her body. She eyed the Doctor while he readied some sort of serum.

Anya closed her eyes as fear seized her body and froze from the inside out.

“S-So...your experiments...a-are they working?” She asked, voice trembling and hating herself more than anything for letting herself show weakness.

Think of your mother, think of your brother _,_ think of your family.

_The worst has already happened. What can men do that compares to what war did to you?_

“Not yet,” The short man answered, and Azure repressed a shiver when his laugh reached her ears, “But I guess it depends on what you call success, no?”

_It's all a lie. It's all a lie._

_The world has lied to you, made a lie out of you._

_Lie, darling._

So Azure forced a smile on her face, force shine in her eyes, and asked the scientist about his program. Turning to answer her, he seemed to forget the serum he prepared for her.

And lie she did. She spent roughly two weeks as Zola's assistant, writing down the changes she saw on the soldiers that were injected, notifying the Doctor of any anomalies, and making sure to keep a straight face at the soldiers begging for the pain to end, or just moaning incoherently.

She swore one of them confused her with his wife, and asked her to save him.

She shook her head, and focused once again in the documents on front of her, all the while listening to Zola hum around in his lab, ignoring the writhing soldier on the med table.

She had studied the symptoms, she knew the poor man did not have much time left.

So she stood up, and keeping her eyes trained ahead but not really seeing, Anya walked towards the dying man, her Vibranium-aloy knife held tightly in her hand.

“You are free.” She whispered, and her knife found its way between his third and fourth rib, and embedded itself on his heart.

“Azure!” Zola scolded, turning around when he heard the characteristic sound of the knife coming out wet with blood. The girl raised one of her legs, and cleaned the blade in her white robe, all the while keeping her gaze ahead.

Putting her knife safe on her thigh-holster again, Azure turned to the Doctor.

“He had a day or two, tops. Same symptoms and responses as the last two, so no data was lost. He was of no use.”

“So that's your excuse, he was useless?” Zola sneered, little hands hovering over the now dead man. He then raised his glassed-gaze to her, and raised a finger in the way a father would when scolding a child. She tried not to dwell in that. “This will have consequences for you, lady!”

“If a death is inconsequential, then you have committed a fault, for you gained nothing from their suffering.” She said, her voice mechanical in a way that frankly scared her.

The Doctor studied her as she once again sat at her desk, sweeping her icy-blue eyes over the documents, her blond hair on a tidy ponytail. They had been trying over and over again to create the perfect soldier for Hydra, and yet every time they failed. Were it because they were not strong enough to endure it, or because the side effects made them uncontrollable

But Azure...Azure needed but a soft push and would be as gentle as a lamb for them. Or so Zola thought.

But before his train of thought could continue, two guards entered, holding another unconscious prisoner by his arms. They stopped at the door entrance, and called for another three agents to clean up the mess on Zola's table.

She pretended not to recognize his gray-blue eyes, she pretended not to notice his gaze focused on her, even as they tied him to the table.

She pretended, because what else could she do?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What do you think? Do you like it? Do you hate it?  
> And quick question: More 40's time or more present time?  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Love, Luce.


	7. Chapter 7

_2014, New York_

“What is she doing free, Stark?” Natasha hissed, eyeing the other woman warily. Azure raised a hand and waved at her,feigning innocence.

“Morning, Natalia.”

And she snapped.

Azure's head hit the counter with enough strength to have her worrying about getting stitches, the redhead's hand around her throat, teeth bared in a hiss.

“Drop the act, Azure.”

The blonde smiled, even though her lungs begged for more oxygen, and remained still, silent.

Natasha growled, and lifted her by the neck only to hit her once again against the cool marble of the counter.

“Natasha, back off.” Tony ordered, but the redhead kept her hold on the other woman, whose breath remained even, whose eyes remained glinting with defiance.

With more strength than she should have, Azure twisted Natasha's thumb back, breaking her hold on her neck, and while she backed away, swept her legs under hers, on an attempt to throw her off balance that quickly failed.

Natasha had her once again in disadvantage, having thrown her to the ground, but before she could land a hit, Azure's legs calves were around her neck, bringing her to the cold kitchen ground with a thud and a groan.

Standing up and throwing a knife that landed on one side of the spy's cheek, Azure fixed her hair and hissed:

“You let your feelings, your anger, control your fighting. It will always grant me victory, Natalia.”

“I have every right to be angry at you!”

“I never said otherwise.” She deflected, but her former student did not back down.

“You condemned me. You watched me, us, suffer every day and every night, you saw us being twisted and broken and you did _nothing!_ You stood by and _let it happen_!” Natasha's usually raspy voice cracked in the last words, and when Azure stiffened, looking for the other Avenger, whom she would have liked to keep from witnessing Natasha's -deserved- mishap; only to find Tony gone, and the light over the kitchen's door signaling a locked entrance. “You left us there! You left me there and look at what I have become! Do you have any idea what we went through?”

“It may not seem like it now, but you must understand, it was the...”

“The best that could happen to me, considering everything? I have heard that before, Azure. Don't bullshit me.”

“Natasha, there was not much I could do.” She reasoned, and they both ignored how she had not used her given name.

The redhead closed her eyes with a huff that could have resembled a laugh and went back to her stoic expression. Azure felt a pang of pride for her then, and realized how...sick all of it was. At some point between her mother's death and now, she had mistaken lying to the world with lying to yourself.

When Natalia's eyes opened again, they were cold and calculating, her smile on the feral edge.

“Do not pretend to be innocent with me, Azure,” The other woman spat back. “I know what you have done.”

Anya blinked a couple of times, and put on a shaky smile.

“Do you, Natalia?” Her voice wavered, and she hated it.

_Lie._

_Don't forget the facade._

_Lie._

_She cannot see you, she will use it against you. They all will._

_You will be trapped again in no time. I bet once again under ice._

“I know enough.”

__

_1944, Austrian Alps_

It would take a few days for Zola to start with the serum, always deciding to take some time to study the...subject; and be able to gather more information about the serum and where an how it was failing. Because it _would_ fail, they were all aware of that.

But Anya decided she would not pierce another heart, or slit another throat. But Zola -nor Hydra- would stand for another of her...digressions, so she knew she could not be caught helping the prisoners again.

And she knew all of that, of course she did, but still here she was, back against a wall, smile on her lips, as she talked to the American as if there was a world out there, outside form war, for either of them.

“...and the little punk would get in trouble the second I turned my back at 'im,” James was saying, and she could picture the small, skinny blond guy he so fondly spoke about, “But he wasn't grandstandin' or anythin', no. The punk just thought he was some sort of vigilante, or somethin'.”

She laughed quietly at the tone in James' voice, equally concerned and frustrated with Steve. He noticed, and shot her a grin even though his lip was cut and his right eye had started to swell from the punches the guards threw at him when he tried to resist when they brought him in.

“He sounds like a great kid, James.”

“What 'bout you, doll? Any little brothers?”

Anya shook her head.

“I'm a little sister, actually. Had two older brothers, Matvei and Alexei.”

“What happened to them?”

“Uhm...they fought, both of them. Matvei, the oldest, was captured and...” She shot a small smile at his direction, that quickly fell at the sight of his gray-blue eyes focused solely on her. “Let's say my country doesn't take well on...failure. He was sent to Siberia, and...died there.”

“I'm sorry, doll.” James whispered, earning a shrug from Anya.

“It does not matter now,” She shook her head, as if trying to get away form such thoughts, “And Alexei...

She considered it, she truly did. Telling him about how he was the Sargent of the unit that killed her brother, the last bit of her blood on this earth. She considered telling him about how the soldiers they fought outside that Hydra base in Azanno were not only Nazi's gone rogue, but also prisoners of war, just like him and the others, that were promised freedom of they fought for them that last time.

She considered it, but decided against it.

What use was it, but to cause pain?

Alexei was gone, and so was his sister, because the girl whose hair he ruffled and whom he loved and sheltered, she was gone in the very instant his body fell alongside many others; and it will just take a her a while longer for her body to take notice of it.

“Alexei died during Smolensk's battle. He...there was no way we could have been prepared for them.”

“I'm really sorry, doll. You shouldn't have gone through that.” He said, and she smiled in thanks.

“Thanks,” She answered, but then a playful glint came to her icy-blue eyes, “I seem to remember telling you not to call me 'Doll', James.”

“Why not?”

“I'm not a doll. A Russian one, maybe.”

“The ones that have a bunch of little dolls inside 'em?”

Anya laughed, closing her eyes, and heard James chuckle quietly too.

“Thank you for phrasing it like that, it does wonders to my pride. And...yes, I suppose.”

“What are those called?”

“Matryoshka dolls.” She answered, happy to feel at least one word of her native language rolling off her tongue.

That satisfaction, however, was shortly lived, because James started viciously ripping apart the word, trying to mouth it like she did.

Anya cringed, and put a hand over his mouth, staring at him in mock horror even though his eyes shone in a silent laugh.

“What. Was. That.” She hissed, mortified expression still on her face.

“I called you like you wanted me to, Meeteriosnak.”

“What is that? That is not a word, James!”

His smile turned proud, and a challenging glint came to his eyes.

“Not all of us can speak Russian, Materinoska.”

Anya pinched the bridge of her nose, and let a breathy laugh escape her lips.

“Evidently. Just go back to 'Doll', James.”

“I knew you liked it.” He stated, and she grunted an answer.

“Just know that if you start calling me 'Dish', I'm out of here.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii, thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed and pleeease let me know what you think!  
> Love, Luce.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this chapter!  
> You can follow me on Tumblr if you want: @I-cant-believe-its-not-a-writer and check my other stories as well!  
> Please let me know what you think! Each comment and each kudos makes my day (I swear to God I screech every time any of my stories gets a comment)!  
> Anyways, hope you enjoy!  
> Love, Luce.

_2014, New York_

Anya itched to yell at her former student that things were not as she thought they were, that she had done more for her than she could ever imagine, but...what purpose would it have?

What use was it, but to cause pain?

“You are right,” Azure conceded, her back to the Black Widow, “You know enough.”

“Still, you owe me the truth.”

This made Azure narrow her icy blue eyes, tension that begged to be released taking over her body. Who was _she_ to demand anything from her?

But, truth was, she was too tired to even try to prove Natalia wrong, so she sighed, and shrugged.

“What do you wish to know, girl?”

“Why are you here?”

“You should ask the kind doctor to take a look at your brain, dear. It seems you have had one too many hits on the head.” She snickered, opening the fridge and taking the jug of expensive-looking orange juice -how Stark managed to find expensive orange juice, don't ask her-, and pouring herself a drink.

She considered trying to find the vodka to mix them, but decided against it. She was still a prisoner, technically.

“I'm serious, Azure.”

“So am I, dear. How will you keep threatening to kill me if you end up drooling over yourself?” Azure heard Natalia's silents steps when the spy once again went against her, and let out a growl, moving so her legs would sweep under hers and throw her to the ground, stalling her attack. Grabbing her glass of juice, Azure took a sip and eyed the redheaded spy on the floor with a tight smile, “I'm not a training dummy, Natalia. Stop attempting to attack me, I may even take it seriously.”

“You should.”

“And you should let go of old resentment. Trust me on this one,” She answered, finishing her drink and letting the glass on the marble counter with a loud clank. “Come find me after lunch, and we will train, like we used to. You will let go of your anger and I will get to see what I'm actually up against, considering you _have_ been pulling your punches.”

Azure walked out of the kitchen, and pressed a button on the side of the closed door asking for its opening.

Tony Stark was on the other side of the door when it opened, a smile on his face as he entered the kitchen and saw it intact.

“Oh goodie, you haven't killed each other _or_ destroyed my furniture!”

“Oh, shut up, Stark.” Natasha growled, and the billionaire promptly ignored her, turning to the blonde.

He signaled the door to the living room with his chin, “Capsicle wanted to talk to you, by the way,” Azure nodded and went in the direction he pointed at, but stopped to roll her eyes at his words, “If you end up stealing 'his flower' on my couch I swear to God, lady, I will record it and I'll make sure you make it to national TV!”

__

_1944, Austrian Alps_

“So you are a Soviet?” James questioned. It had been...a week? Yes, a week since he was first brought in, and Anya had spent close to every night with him in the adjacent cell to Zola's lab, sneaking out at night like a normal girl of her age would have, only she did not sneak out of her house through the window to be wooed by a bad boy, but out of her room into a cell to keep a prisoner company.

Weird how life changes so much you can't even recognize it, and yet remains the same in a way.

“Yes, I was born in Moscow. My mother was English, met my father when they fought on the same front during the First War.”

“So you are with the Union.”

“I'm not. I'm working _here_ , James, I'm not a prisoner.” She stated, almost angry that he wanted to victimize her. She had made a choice, she was there because she had made a choice.

Albeit not a _good_ choice, but hers nonetheless.

But, he didn't back down, lifting an eyebrow in her direction, a sly smile on his lips, as if he already knew the answer, “Aren't you, Doll?”

“Don't mean to be rude, darling, but out of the two of us, who is in a cell?” Azure spat back, fake sweetness on her tone that for some reason made James laugh, showing lines around his eyes, and making the blue in them stand out even more.

“And the guards think you are bein' nice when you get all flirty with 'em.” He muttered, almost to himself.

“I'm always nice, darlin'.”

“No, you are nice when you are goin' to scare the shit outta me, Doll.”

She rolled her eyes in response, but did not argue.

“So, are you...with the Nazis then?” He asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. She shook her head. “So...you are a double agent.”

“Double agent would imply that I actually root for one side or the other, darling. You could all burn for all I care.”

“If you don't care, why are you here?” He insisted, and though the questions made her uncomfortable, his blinding smile when he continued talking almost made her at ease in her own skin. “'Cause I'd hate to let down a sweet dame such as you, but they didn't tell me much when they made me Sargent.”

The blond girl shook her head, and shrugged, “I like you, James. When I met you, you were getting your ass handled to you...”

“Well thanks, Doll. You sure know how to talk up a man.”

“Shut up. But you didn't back down, and you didn't accuse the French man that I _know_ made you stumble on purpose. You protected him, even though you could have saved yourself a beating, and even though he was the reason you were in trouble in the first place.”

“You saw that.”

“Yes. The world needs more men like you James.”

He laughed weakly and shook his head, though this time he looked more defeated than joyful.

“Every time my life looks like goin' to shit you are there. I'm startin' to wonder if you are my salvation or my doom.”

“Can't I be both?”

The American considered her, and shot her a sly smile, “A woman as beautiful as you...no, you can't. You are probably my doom anyways, Doll.”

She smiled back, and when he offered her his hand through the call bars, she took it, and laced his fingers with hers.

They stayed like that, both their backs on the wall, their hands intertwined through the metal bars of his cells, their voices whispers of stories of how their lives were before the world turned upside down. And when the dawn was about to break, the whispers became about what _could be_ , if the world was ever right again. He promised her to take her dancing, she promised to wear the red lipstick she wore that first day.

Neither of them heard Zola mumbling to himself as he decided to try another formula on one of his tests, but they both heard his angry yell for the guards.

And Azure was taken, kicking and screaming, to the table where she had seen so many other soldiers die.

And James did not sleep again at night, but it wasn't her company what kept him awake, but her screams.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapters are getting longer. Don't even ask me why, this characters do whatever they want here.  
> Anyways, thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think down there on the comments section!  
> Love, Luce.

_1944, Austrian Alps_

She did not remember the pain, the same way she could not remember the sight of her father lying on the cold hard ground, blood all over clear-white ceramic, the same way she could not remember the face of the first man she killed in Hydra's name.

She only remembers waking up, taking a deep breath with Zola's smiling face above her. She remembers his praises, about how she was a good soldier, and about how her...mishap could be forgotten.

And she remembered all those times her stubbornness, her rebellion got her and others in deep problems. She remembered, and she remembered how Hydra longed for a perfect soldier, and how they were prone to think she was less than them because she wore dresses and red lipstick.

So she schooled her features, and faced the doctor while he untied her bindings and saw her sit up.

“Ya zhdu prikaza, doktor.”

Her words made a giddy smile spread around the man's face, “Can you speak English, Azure?”

“Of course, Doctor.”

“Good, good,” He babbled, and motioned for her to stand up. She did, keeping her elegance in her movements. Zola called for one of the guards to enter, and motioned in his direction at Azure, “Prove why we should keep you, girl.”

She jumped at him with a strength and grace she did not know she was able to possess, and placed her hands around his neck, her weight keeping him on the ground.

She felt the rush of power, of strength go through her body, electrifying and frightening at the same time. She hid a shudder, and crushed the guard's windpipe with a motion of her wrist.

It scared her how easy it was.

Azure stood up, and faced the Doctor.

“It's unbelievable!” The man babbled, leading her to the med table once again, and starting to take her vitals. “It seems like the serum worked on you! And not only that, but it took away your resistance!”

She clenched her jaw, but made sure Zola did not notice, and remained silent as he continued to ramble on and on about how condemned happy he was that it had worked on her.

When he expressed how impressed he was with her newfound abilities, Azure nodded her head once, and stated, “I'm glad I please you, Doctor.”

He ignored her, and turned his back at her, ranting about how she would be the best spy Hydra had so far, the best infiltrator, because, who would suspect of a woman?

He mumbled something about asking Schmidt to come here and see their work by himself, but a raspy voice interrupted him,

“Anya? Ann, is that you?”

_James._

Azure closed her eyes for a second, but kept her back straight and her mouth closed.

But Zola motioned for her to stand up, and walk to the small room where he as kept. So she did, and found him way worse than he had been when she was taken -how long had she been out?-, with bags under his eyes, sunken cheeks and a couple more of bruises on his face.

But still he smiled when she appeared, and if her heart hadn't been frozen a long time ago, it would have broken right then.

Zola chuckled, “Don't try to corrupt the incorruptible, Mr. Barnes. Azure is not that easy to bend, are you, dear?”

She answered with a curt shake of her head.

“No, Doctor.”

“Good. Now be a dear and take Sargent Barnes to the table, would you?”

She nodded, and opened the cell, motioning for James to get out. He continued to stare at her, as if searching for the crack on her facade, but she knew he would not find one. She motioned with her arm once again, and he stood up, walking with a hand on his ribs to the table where the serum was expecting him.

She started strapping the ties around his ankles, knees and arms, and she could feel his gray-blue eyes on hers.

“You are not...gone, are you?” He whispered.

She took a step back once she had finished with the straps, and gave him a quick, sad smile. Leaning in and whispering a kiss over his chapped lips, she promised,

“It's all lies, darling.”

__

_2014, New York_

“You wanted to see me, Captain?” Azure asked as she came into the room. The man in question had his back to her, hands laced in front of him.

“I wasn't told there was more than one Winter Soldier.” He stated, making the blood on her veins run cold.

“There is not.”

“Then what are you?”

“A lie.”

He turned around then, baby-blue eyes cold in their professionalism as he stared at her. She felt a horrible twist in her stomach, a primal need to escape, to run away from him because he knew and he had power and he was going to put her back under, and she couldn't she...she wasn't done yet, she didn't want to go back to the ice, she...

“What do you know about Bucky?”

“Your Bucky died a long time ago, Steve. I'm sorry.” She whispered, and even though her sentiment was true, and she was truly sorry for what the Golden Boy of America had been through, he was quick to shake his head in denial.

“No. I saw him, he recognized me, h-he...”

She put a hand on his shoulder, and forced his baby-blue eyes to stare at hers.

She put all her effort in making him understand her words, in calming him down because she was _sure_ the man had been hanging from a thread since his long-lost friend had found him and the world around him had fallen, and just as she was sure of that, she was _sure_ no one thought about giving him time to breathe and process it.

That's the thing when you pretend to be strong, you can never go back and prove you are human. That's what they say, right?

Anya whispered calmly, her thumb rubbing circles in the Captain's shoulder, “I'm sorry. He -the man you remember-, he is no longer there, not wholly, at least.”

“But I remember you, back...before. And you seem pretty whole to me.”

She laughed breathlessly, a weak laugh that made the voice that sounded so much like her mother growl at her vulnerability.

“I was never whole to start, Steve.”

__

_1944, Austrian Alps_

Azure was discussing the possible relocation of the facility with Schmidt, standing with her back straight and her eyes firmly on the map displayed ahead of them.

Considering the man was a former Nazi, and considered the human race should be limited from freedom, it was astonishing that he even considered her presence in the room, much less asking for her advice.

But, Schmidt was nothing of not a man of war, and he knew where an asset was and how to use it. And right now, Zola's little experiment was not only obedient and strong, but smart and ingenious.

And as of now, an opportunity such as that could not be thrown away because of gender.

That's why Schmidt's first order when the words of Captain America reaching the compound were not to send Azure to at least try and delay him, but to get to safety with Zola and himself.

She found herself surprised, of course, but any wonder was lost when the Doctor ran into Schmidt's office, and she realized James was still in that cell, probably still delirious from the serum procedure Zola had started on him a few days ago; and her heart plummeted down.

How could she get to him? How, without having Schmidt or Zola figure out her little lie and have her moping the floor with her own blood?

“Azure, stick to my side. Zola, go fetch your things.”

“I can protect him.” She stated, big eyes facing the man with the eerily realistic mask. Too late did she recognize the urge in her voice.

The tall man inched closer to her and hissed on her face, “You do as I say.”

_Please, forgive me._

She nodded, and followed him out of the compound.

__

She stood next to Zola, on the 'safe' side of the falling facility, while Schmidt stupidly taunted and played with the Captain. Not that she could focus on any of that, because ever since they had found the men on the other side of the railing, James' blue-gray eyes had been on hers, switching back to Zola with a mix of panic and anger, but quickly returning to her own, as if he expected to blink and see her gone.

“...Then why are you runnin'?” The Captain asked, but Schmidt ignored him, getting into the elevator and signaling for Azure to go against the Captain with a movement o his chin.

She turned, unsheathing both her curved vibranium-aloy knives from her lower back, and stood against the man dressed as a flag in a war that had nothing to do with them.

“Stand down, Captain.” Azure asked, her eyes holding the baby-blue of the young man in front of her.

“Not today, ma'am.”

Schmidt laughed from behind her, and before closing the door to the elevator chuckled: “In front of you lies the future, Captain!”

_Schmidt is gone, you can let the Captain and James go. You can let them go, and tell Hydra you failed to get them. Or you can run with them, you can...you can go dancing._

But Azure quickly stopped herself from having such thoughts.

_You can only run so far from your demons, and yours have already caught you. There's no going back, and you know that between their life and your own, it will always have to be your own._

So she took a deep breath and threw one of the knives, letting it pierce the man's shield. He turned his angry gaze at her, and attempted to shoot her form the manual pistol he held in his right hand, but she had already jumped towards him, laying under him and sweeping his legs from under him, throwing him down.

But the man was quick to recover, and he hit her in the stomach with the edge of his shield, sending her back a few feet. But she had already taken her knife that ended embedded on the metal piece, so she now jumped back to her feet and advanced towards the Captain with both knives ready to strike.

Before she could take another step ahead though, Jame shad pulled at the Captain's shirt and brought him back to his side, letting himself slide in front of the man with the shield, visibly protecting him.

“Anya, let us go,” He pleaded, but she kept her expression neutral as she studied them. The way James did not hesitate in standing, injured and weakened, in front of this man to protect him; and the fact that the Captain had decided to pay special attention to this prisoner's escape and safety made her realize it: this was _Steve_ , the little guy James kept talking about, the boy that could not, for the life of him, back down from a fight. James took a step ahead at her silence, “Doll, c'mon, I know you're there. Come with us, I...I'll keep you safe, 'promise.”

She hesitated, apparently, for one second too many, and the metal bridge connecting the two sides of the building caved under her feet.

Both James and Steve were on the safe side, but Anya...not so much.

She could feel herself falling, and for a weak, flashing second, she felt such overbearing relief, that almost didn't notice the pair of hands bringing her back up.

She opened her eyes, and encountered the faceless mask of a Hydra soldier, telling her to escape, talking about a route, and screaming that Zola was waiting for her.

 


	10. Chapter 10

_2014, New York_

So Anya spent over an hour talking to the Captain, telling him about how James rambled on and on about how ' _the little punk can't beat a fly, I tell ya', but look at a dame the wrong way, and he's all over givin' a speech about respect_ ', and seeing a bit of the grief that the young man seemed so soaked in and yet hiding from everyone at the same time melt away for a while, giving way to the shining blue eyes that sparkled with joy and the fain blush over his cheekbones and ears whenever she threw a compliment his way.

They avoided Hydra, or their lives after the war, and Anya realized, when she noticed her smile being too sweet to be fake and her laugh to easy, that she could...she could understand why someone would want this, this life. People you could trust, people who would trust _you._ It all seemed...childlike to her, until she found herself with a bullet on her shoulder and the only man she had ever trusted screaming as a machine wiped away his humanity.

And now...now she can see why Natasha chose to stay, even at the cost of her own safety.

Safety was a lie, she taught her, but feeling safe is not. She knew she was not safe by staying with the Avengers, by showing herself in public, but she _felt_ safe by having this dysfunctional family around her.

She hid a self-mocking chuckle. The last time she had felt _safe_ was before they were sent to the girls in the Red Room, and even then she can't pinpoint a moment where she knew she could breathe without fearing, either for her life, her sanity, or James'.

And if Anya was honest with herself, she missed it. Missed knowing that if she closed her eyes and leaped, someone would be waiting for her down there.

“Where were you born?” Steve asked, driving her interest away from her dangerous thoughts.

She put on a flirty smile, “Interested in lil' ol' me, Captain?”

He huffed a laugh, looking down, but not being able to hide the faint blush that covered the tips of his ears and his cheeks.

“You seem to know quite a lot about me, miss. I want to even the ground.”

_'Evening the ground' would leave me vulnerable. 'Evening the ground' dragged my mother into war because of an old debt, and it lead to her death._

_'Evening the ground' doesn't work for people like us._

“I was raised in Russia, but...I was born in France.” She said, surprising even herself by telling the truth.

“Were you ever back in France?”

She rose an eyebrow at him, truly fighting a smile at his...it wasn't innocence, but it was... _something_ , something that drove her away from the past for a while.

“I was a Red Orchestra, Steve. I traveled the world, during the war.”

“I...I know that, I did too, but...I mean, like _traveling_ traveling, not...loud, sweaty men and jawbreakers for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

Anya couldn't help but laugh out loud at the utterly _adorable_ way he used slang from back in the day.

Shaking her head, she answered, “No, I haven't. I haven't...I couldn't go AWOL, Steve.”

He threw a gentle -but not pitying, thankfully- smile at her.

“When was the last time you traveled without a mission on your back?”

____

_1945, Brooklyn, New York_

She stood at the back of the small church, dressed in a black dress, and letting a small hat with a birdcage veil cover most of her face. She watched people talk to each other, a girl with chestnut hair and blue calling her attention.

The girl kept her face stoic, or at least attempted to, her back straight and her eyes full of tears, that she carefully wiped away with a handkerchief when the woman she presumed was her mother, looked away. Her eyes kept scanning the room full of people, assessing them as if searching for someone who needed her, searching another soul under that immense grief to care for, and pretend she did not have to battle her own.

And sadly, Azure knew that stare, that spirit that longed to keep everyone and everything safe, that would burn to give others light.

She wanted to go to the girl that didn't know her, hug her and tell her her brother loved her more than anything, and that probably his last thoughts belonged to her and the rest of his family.

She wanted to, but, what use was a spy, an assassin, a _liar_ , in a funeral, in a church?

What use was _she_ , but to cause pain and death?

So Azure remained in her place, near the door, head tipped down so her almost-white blond hair and icy eyes wouldn't draw attention, and listened to the march that everyone seemed to respect, to feel as a representation of his heroism; but where all she could listen was all the souls that lost their lives for a war that was not theirs, all the lies they were fed to give their lives for a country that would not remember them, not when the lights go out.

She watched the girl nod at her mother, and give her a small hug, and walk ahead, where a General awaited.

They gave her a flag.

A folded flag, an empty casket, and a few shots fired into the air.

_Sargent James Buchanan Barnes, 107 th. Captain America's best friend. Howling Commando. One of the greatest snipers._

Azure felt like screaming. He wasn't any of that.

_James. Bucky. Steve Rogers' best friend. The man with the fake bravado. One that learned to fight to protect his best friend._

_James._

But she remained silent, and waited until the place was empty to walk ahead, to the picture, the medals, and the row of seats where only the family was supposed to be.

She placed her gloved hand on the wooden casket, and took a breath to speak, “I...James, you...” She stopped, and shook her head, walking away from the...the thing, the empty, stupid symbol of her failure. “This makes no sense, you are not even...there. It's...” Anya huffed a laugh, picturing his smile, mocking her for arguing with herself about talking with herself, “James, you cocky prick, if you could see me, you would be laughing at me, I know.

She sobered, and taking another deep breath, placed her hand again over the hard wood. Whispering, she added,

“I...we didn't get much time. You were...taken, when it was not your time, and...I will miss you.”

She turned around to find the girl, his sister, at the doors of the church, staring at her with those knowing eyes, and smiling slightly.

“He would. Make fun of us, I mean. Would ruffle my hair and invite me to dine out, or play some stupid game with me like when we were children.”

Without her consent, a smile formed in Anya's lips at the girls tale, and she could imagine to tiny versions of both she and her brother running around Brooklyn's streets.

The brunette took a step ahead, extending her hand to the stranger, “I'm Rebecca. Rebecca Barnes.”

She hesitated, but shook her hand nonetheless.

“Anya. Though I go by Azure now.”

With surprise etched in her face, the younger woman let go of her hand and reached into her purse, rummaging at taking out a sealed envelope.

“Then this is yours,” She said, “Steve sent his belongings back to us, and this letter was among them.”

She took it, but didn't open it, just read the back of it.

_~~Ann~~. I mean, Doll._

____

_2014, New York_

She dodged Steve's question, and instead asked him about the Brooklyn where he grew up, earning back the shine in his baby blue eyes.

They took a break to go back the kitchen and grab some coffee, and Steve told her about how they would have her talk to all of them in a meeting when Barton and Agent Hill came back from their mission, and explain exactly what she wanted here in the compound.

“So, no questions about my past with Natalia?” She pondered, and the Captain shook his head.

“Not officially. Respecting Natasha's privacy we won't ask them, but I'm sure everyone has them.”

“What are yours?”

“They don't involve Natasha.”

Azure narrowed her eyes at the Captain, “It's not my story to tell.” She bit back.

“Good. It's your story the one we're interested in now.” Stark stated, walking into the kitchen and letting a file fall from his hands over the counter. Azure eyed him with distrust. The smile on Tony's face now was not the one of the man that teased her about her flirting at breakfast, or the one that warned her to behave in his penthouse. This was the smile of the cat that had caught the mouse and it was...unnerving to be on the other side of it.

“My story it's not that interesting, Mr. Stark,” She smiled back, a fake smile, and crossed her legs as she sat in one of the barstools. “I'm just an infiltrator. I'm sure you have encountered a few.”

The brunet opened the file and pointed at what looked like test results, sliding it in Azure's direction.

“Not many infiltrators are mutants, babygirl,” His brown stare turned cold, and he rose an eyebrow, “Explain.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger of sorts, and also for taking so long with updating, but my explanation is in one word: MIDTERMS. Gods, Midterms are hell.  
> Anyways, thank you for reading, and pleeeease let me know what you think! I would love to know how I could improve, or what you would like to see. So I wait for you down there at the commments section!  
> Love, Luce.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think! I would love to hear what you are thinking of this story so far.  
> Anyways, hope you like it  
> Love, Luce

_1946, Russia_

Azure said goodbye to her city, her country and, more importantly her family, on a cold day of February.

She stood in front of five graves, and listened morbidly to the minister say an eulogy in her own name, and saw an empty casket being lowered to the ground, her name engraved in marble as she pretended she rested with her family, and led everyone to believe she was gone.

Which she was, probably. They had told her about the cryogenic stasis program, and about how they would use it on her, to keep her safe while they developed more like her so she could be less...indispensable. She asked about not ending up like an icicle, of course, while pretending to only care for the sake of her mission, which was now protect Hydra's future.

Did she mind? Of course she did. She was working for the organization that would've killed her on the spot, were she not trained to be better than any man by her mother, a woman that knew what the world demanded of them in a field like theirs. She was working for the ones responsible -albeit undirectly- of her brother's death, and thousands of other people's.

But, Azure knew that the rest of the world wasn't much better. A stable world, a world that denied ideas such as Hydra's wouldn't have had it born as a radicalism in the first place. Azure knew humans were destructive and hateful by nature, so while she did not like working for the previously-Nazi cult, she would not lie to herself and pretend they were all monsters that hid in the dark and chuckled evilly about their plans to destroy the world.

Because they actually did not want to destroy he world. They wanted to reshape it. And though their methods and the...system they aspired to wasn't correct, they were right about the world needing to be reborn.

What world was it, where they let men and women to war, and yet the horrors the latter faced were not only at the hands of the enemy? What world was it, where a man was denied assistance because of his accent, or the color of his skin? What world was it, where people died in a conflict that went to the corruption and greed of their leaders, and were forgotten in a nameless grave, or worse, in one filled with thousands of others?

So she flew back to Germany, and let a small smile curve her lips as she felt the ice tracing over her skin. The cold felt like a relief after a life dancing around the flames.

Maybe the world would be better once she woke up.

Maybe she would finally _wake up_.

_2014, New York_

She studied the file with wide eyes.

_Results for Azure's genetic codification show a digression from Homo Sapien's sample Anthony Stark, in the addition in the genetic code of a Gene studies such as those published by Dr. Charles Xavier show as a 'X-Gene'._

_This isolates the subject Azure from regular humans, and could prove to be the cause of her under-developed Pathokinesis (Advanced Empathy) or Mentokinesis (Mental Alteration or Control), usually shown, according to data, in the control of affection, usually desire or love._

_The genetic code does not strictly demands a certain behavior to be applied to daily life of the subject, but existing evidence show this control or manipulation depends greatly on the voice, language and body expressions._

She diverted her eyes from the paper.

“I'm not a _mutant_ , Anthony. I just read people.”

“That's true, you have a great perception of people, even without need of them to talk,” He retorted, smile still in place. “Amazing, isn't it?”

“The fact that I can flirt and men and women can believe it is not proof enough that I am...something other than human, dear.” She purred, but the man in front of her shook his head.

“I'll assume you are being a good girl and you are not lying to me right now, so you truly did not know about your abilities,” He accepted, standing up and pouring himself a drink, signaling at her in an invitation, which she declined. It was 10 o'clock in the morning. He strolled back to her, and continued, “You were never in the receiving end of your little smiles, babe, so I assume you haven't felt the effect you have. You compel us to listen to you, albeit...slightly, like the little devil in your shoulder,” He laughed at her affronted expression, “Oh, I'm so gonna call you little she-devil from now on!

She rose an eyebrow, and tried to hide her anger at the billionaire.

She could not be a mutant, could she? Hydra would have found out, they had tested her numerous times already. _She_ would know, right? She would feel something else, something...non-human.

Right?

“Anyways, I was going somewhere, and I intend to get there before you murder me, so...”He mocked, cocking his head, “You are...a mutant. Your genetic code is different from ours, because you can reach into our unstable little heads and understand us better than the regular person, and act accordingly. You are...like an algorithm. You study behavior, and you have an ease to perceive it and study it in fractions of a second, so then you adjust your own behavior to the patterns you discovered.”

_He is such a smart man to be such a dumbass. The good kind, though.._

“But...then I'm...normal.” She reasoned, earning a laugh from the playboy.

“You are here, babygirl. You are not normal, or fine,” He replied, “But yes, socially speaking, you are normal. Probably.”

She huffed a laugh, and ignored the small voice in her head that ranted about how she was letting her guard down, and about how that was dangerous, specially considering her actual mission.

“This is...”

“A lot?” Tony teased, “Yeah, welcome to the Avengers, lovely.”

_1956, Siberia_

She watched the guard writhe under the metal hand, and the other ones locked din the cage scream and beg to be let out. Their screams died down soon enough, too.

The soldier stood in the middle of the training ground, among the dead bodies, breathing heavily.

Azure could not believe it. She knew Zola's serum had proven to be successful in her so therefore would be on him but...she didn't end up like that, she...that was not James. It could not be.

She watched as a guard that remained on their side of the cage nodded at the person behind her, and reached for the security at the door. He turned big cerulean eyes to the man behind her, and questioned,

“Sir?”

Karpov nodded at her, and pushed her in the direction of the door.

“Ispolnyat'.” He barked.

“I'm sorry, but she will not be discarded like...” Zola started, present during the experiment where they released the Soldat, and now outraged that they would dare dismiss his first successful soldier just like that.

“She will not. She will either defeat him, where we keep her and finish him; or he will defeat her, in which case we win a better soldier at the loss of your little pet.”

“She will not fail.” Zola stated, smiling at the girl as if she needed encouragement.

 _Well, if you had given me a fucking_ metal arm _, you bunch of useless shits, I could not be about to scream and run for the hills right now._

_But noo, leave the tiny girl with a few knives; give the American soldier a goddamned cybernetic limb!_

She kept her expression neutral, and walked ahead when the doors opened.

She stood still, a few feet away from the Soldat but still in front of him directly, watching his gray eyes swim over her face and body in animalistic distrust. They remained silent for a long while, like two predators studying one another, until a loud clank startled them both.

“Do something, cunt!”

The knife went straight through the stupid man's neck, and Azure's eyes widened in fear.

_Shit, I did not do that. I did not do that! Then..._

She turned around to see the Soldat's eyes fixated on the remaining crew of men behind the bars of their cage, the remaining knife if vibranium aloy still in his hand.

Then he turned to her.

_Well, shi..._

“Soldat, do not turn against me,” She hissed, and seeing no recognition in his stormy eyes, she lowered her voice, “You know me, James. You do not want to hurt me.”

Azure's back hit the cold concrete ground with a concerning crack, and the Soldat let the remaining knife she kept on her lower back fall to the ground, and stood above her.

At the clank of the hard metal on the floor, her mind decided to replay the last minutes of one of the guards whose body still lay in the cage around them. How his body started convulsing slightly at the loss of air, how his eyes were tinted with red before they closed forever.

Fear clogging her throat, she hoarsely appealed,

“You said you would protect me.”

Using the strength in her legs to lift herself up before...he did not do anything. He did not attack.

Azure studied his posture, and knew he was doing the same thing to her. Oddly, the thought that she was not the only one able to think before shooting comforted her, even if the situation they were in now was so monstrous, so...brutal. He was a man before, and he probably did not even remember it.

But she still attacked.

Lifting her right hand she tried to land a hit on his jaw, but he caught her fist with a metal hand.

_Well, goodbye bones, it was nice meeting you._

She prepared herself for the feeling of her pulverized hand, but it did not come. The soldier lowered her hand, and rose his flesh hand to poke gently at the underside of her chin.

He was _teasing_ her.

Breaking away and taking another step back, Azure readied herself again.

She tried to hit his nose to destabilize him, but the brunet ducked and avoided her attack. Eyes narrowed and a growl threatening to break free, Anya charged again, aiming to the jaw with the right arm and when he rose his amr to stop her with what could have been a cocky smile, she was ready.

She hit his nose with her elbow, and continuing when his surprise made him stagger. Locking one foot behind his knee, she forced the Soldat on his knes before her.

She doubled by the waist, and repeated his gesture, poking his chin with a manicured finger.

She rose, and faced Zola and Karpov with an even stare,fighting the urge to heave like her body asked her to.

The Lieutenant beside the scientist gesture at them with his hand.

“Continue. I want to see you training.”

She nodded once, turning back to the man, but Karpov's voice stopped her again.

“Pokazhite svoyu silu. Kontroliruy yego.”

She swallowed, and nodded again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, shameless use of Google Translate (I'm studying Russian actually, but I'm too much of a begginner. Like a sad, useless begginner.) so I apologize for any mistakes.
> 
> Ispolnyat' (Comply, like a command)  
> Pokazhite svoyu silu. Kontroliruy yego. (Display your strength. Control him.)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii, hope you enjoy my lovelies! Please let me know what you think!!  
> Please check the end notes for a few clarifications on some aspects of the cannon of this fic. Thank you!  
> Love, Luce.

_2014, New York_

She sees it now and it makes her so _sick_ at herself. Of course she could calm down the Soldat, of course he would listen to her. She had _commanded_ him to. Of course they would make her his Handler.

She manipulated him and every other person in her life since...since when? Her whole life? Was anything true?

Did her parents, her brothers, loved her or she forced them to?

What isn't a lie about her now?

Anya let out a self-mocking laugh, thinking about the irony of it all, and how a master liar became a lie herself.

_Well, the universe was always creative when it came to fucking me over._

“Azure, ready for...training?”

“You want to say 'trying to kill you without legal consequences', Natalia, just say it.” She said, opening the door to the room they had given her after her meeting with Stark and letting the spy in, turning her back at her to fix her blond hair on a loose ponytail.

“Please,” The redhead huffed, “I can kill you without legal consequences. I can kill you without you noticing.”

Rolling her eyes, but glad the latent aggressive atmosphere around the both of them had...dissipated a little at least, Azure follower her through the compound and to the gym.

__

Natasha's eyes challenged hers, and Azure could barely ocntain her smile.

“Ready?” She asked, and the redhead showed her agreement silently by throwing the first hit. Azure deviated it rising her forearm and diverting her hand to the spy's sternum, sending her back a few steps. “You get to close. You are used to fighting men, dear.”

Her student showed a feral smile that went to one side slightly more than the other, and hissed,

“They learned from us. They don't hire women anymore.”

“Afraid to have their men fall?”

Natasha's smile faded a little, “In more ways than one.”

They had been sisters in arms plenty if times before, and there was little that Natasha did not know about Azure's abilities, and vice versa. They knew how to defeat one another, and how to fight side by side to grant themselves victory. Azure knew Natalia's weaknesses, but the spy knew hers as well. The redhead seemed predictable to her, but she knew her movements followed a pattern in the other girl's eyes too.

Azure's back hit the wall, Natasha's hit sending her backwards with more strength than she had expected. But when the spy came at her for another hit, the blonde lifted both feet from the floor and pushed back against the spy.

Seeing Natasha fall to the ground, Azure granted herself a small smile.

“You still fight as if I were stronger and...clumsier than you.”

“You are to my teacher anymore, Azure. Shut it.”

She laughed back, and avoided Natasha's feet when they tried to unbalance her form her position at the floor. When the other woman rose to her full height again, she readied her stance again.

“Do we call points? 'Cause I earned at least one right before.”

Azure threw her fist to hit the girls face, but Natasha was faster, and grabbed the blonde's arm, twisting it and raising herself with it, sending her legs around Azure's neck and spiraling to the ground with her.

“Call it a tie,” The redhead smiled, and then added, mocking Anya's accent, “'Cause I earned one right there.”

After almost twenty minutes of fighting -because they...they didn't train. Too much history between them to leave at just training- both of them called it a tie and finished the session, scheduling another for the next day.

Or considering the pain in Azure's ribs and the bruise blossoming in Natalia's shoulder, probably the day after that.

Natasha's voice interrupted her post-training routine, “I still haven't forgiven you.”

But Azure did not turn around, and remained with her back turned to her former student.

“I do not need your forgiveness, Natalia.”

“But you do not need my help, either.”

She mocked a gasp,

“What gave me away? Was it my complete disregard for you?” Azure pretended to curse herself, “Dang it, it was that, right?”

The redhead did not let Azure's venom get to her, and stepped forward.

“Disregard, seriously?” She taunted, heart-shaped face close to the other woman's. “For such a strong word I would expect the jealousy in your eyes to be gone.”

“Jealousy? That's what you think it is?”

“What is it then? Poorly masked guilt?”

_1960, Saint Petersburg_

Anya sat across from Zola, who ranted on and on about a new project of his, while she wrote her dossier on one of the new recruits. She was still, after all this years, after becoming the only Hydra member to survive a match with the Soldier, after having performed over 200 missions already.

But it was not her place to complain, and they didn't believe she was able to either, considering they thought the serum had, like erasing his humanity on Schmidt, made her pliable and eager to comply.

If she was being honest, she had actually thought about getting out, escaping. Taking James with her and...and what? Because her plan always ended there, like that of a child that wants to crawl out of his crib, but realizes, once he has done so, that the world outside is not fit for him.

What place could they have in the world? He did not remember much of his life before the ice, and though he was still human, he still talked to her when they were alone and he still...felt, he was a supersoldier with a vibranium-aloy arm. And she was a Soviet traitor with a past linked to war trying to live in a world where Americans would use her to their advantage, and Soviets would probably burn her for her past crimes.

So the idea of escaping remained that, an idea. A simple daydream.

The loud clank of the wooden board hitting her desk had Azure startled, having zoned off from Zola's rant about twenty minutes.

“Azure,” The man barked, and she looked up to find Karpov looking down at her. She nodded, and stood up, being handed the board with key information on whatever they wanted her to check now. The Russian continued, “Obrashchat' vnimaniye. Novaya missiya, u vas yest' dva dnya na podgotovku.”

She refused to acknowledge or even ponder the reasons why this man insisted on talking in Russian to her, when they both spoke English, and so did the rest of the facility.

“Sir,” She complied, eyeing the sheets of information before her, “This is simple enough, I don't need two days.”

“I know, girl. They are not for you. Prepare the Soldat, he is going with you.”

She hid her surprise under years of pretending to be mindless, and cocked her head to the side simply, pretending not to understand.

“This is an information retrieval mission, Sir.”

“I know. It is easy, which is why the Soldat goes with you. We need him in the field.”

She bit the inside of her cheek trying not to snap at the self-entitled son of a...

_Okay, this is not being calmed, Anya._

They were blatantly telling her they would replace her with James! They would kill her without as much as a second thought if the Soldat proved to be efficient enough.

Because even after everything, she was till the thorn in Hydra's side for being indispensable and a woman.

But she nodded once, and prepared herself to show them exactly why she was let into the field in the first place.

So she walked to the place where they kept him, and found the Soldat trying to tear off the arm of the man attempting to force him into some sort of bulletproof vest that made Anya cringe at the sight. It looked like a black-dyed version of a straight jacket, only without the restriction in the arms.

“Problem, gentlemen?”

The agent gave up with a huff, and pointed in James' direction as if he weren't there.

“Your damned brute won't stay still,” He spat, and walked by Azure as he exted the room, “You deal with it.”

She made a little 'tsk' sound and stopped the agent from walking.

“I'm sorry, darlin'; could you come over one more second?” She purred, and heard the slight whir of James' metal arm adjusting itself, as is reading himself for a fight.

_You are nice when you are goin' to scare the shit outta me, Doll._

She hid a smile, and waited until the agent walked back until he was right in front of her to speak again, without changing her kind and neutral expression.

“If you ever refer to him in such a way, I'm going to personally make sure you cannot eat or shit by yourself ever again.” She smiled, “Deal, pumpkin?”

The agent nodded frantically, and moved to get away, but a metal hand in the middle of his chest stopped him.

“Make sure to keep those little glances I see you throw her way at a minimum,” James hissed near his ear, “And if you even try callin' her out...well, no need of threats when I know you can't outrun either of us.”

Anya hid a smile, and watched the agent that she was sure was going to become a mild and sweet man from now on, walked away from the room, closing the metallic door on his way out.

Once they were alone, she turned to the soldier, smile gone from her face.

“You alright?” She whispered, getting closer to help him take the stupid vest off.

“Peachy.” He mumbled back, a muscle showing on the side of his jaw as he clenched it in anger. She knew it was hard on him, lying. Pretending to be...whatever they wished for him to be.

When she started the lie of her submission to Hydra, she remembers her last words to him before they were separated were 'It's all lies, darling', the same words her mother used to tell her over and over, to make her understand that in the world no one survives as themselves, that we always take on different masks and different histories for each situation. That we are never true.

After years of training with them and seeing Hydra -and more importantly Karpov, who seemed sort of fixated on the Winter Soldier- grow more and more frustrated at his rebellion, Anya knew he was not going to comply, not at all, and not ever. But, for her sake, and because there's only so much someone can withstand before breaking, as the new scars littering his skin prove, he adopted the lie too.

And she worries for how long it will protect him, because she knew what Zola started on after she was assigned to Schmidt, she knew what the wounds on James' cheekbones and the blood on his ear meant, back when she saw them in 44'.

She knew what was expecting them at the turn of the corner. And for one of the few times in her life, she was terrified not for herself, but for someone else.

__

“She is your priority,” They were telling James for the thousandth time as the plane prepared to land, “You have to protect her. You fail, and she dies.”

_That is so wrong and false is almost insulting._

_Almost, 'cause I know who I'm actually dealing with. Amazing how Hydra lowered my standards._

The Soldat nodded. His angular and handsome face hardened by cold anticipation and a...frighteningly controlled sort of anger.

Azure watched the exchange silently, and pondered about the way the Soldat reacted every time he was let out of the ice without proper acclimatization, the way he would react in a primal and aggressive way and attack anything in front of him, not caring about broken necks or bleeding chests. She pondered about what they did when she was gone, what they did to him if not give him missions.

She pondered about how much time she had with James before they managed to take him away completely.

And as they were left in a cold hill near Saint Petersburg, she cursed that day in a prisoners camp when she decided to help a stubborn man.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii, translations:
> 
> Obrashchat' vnimaniye. Novaya missiya, u vas yest' dva dnya na podgotovku. (Pay attention. New mission, u have two days to prepare.)
> 
> And a few points:  
> *Azure's reference to what Zola did aside from the serum back in 1944 is based on a great theory that's wandering around, about how studying the location of Bucky's face wounds when Steve rescues him and the ear bleeding could be connected to the wiping machine used to control the Winter Soldier.  
> *About how Bucky is...mostly Bucky still: Natasha speaks about 50 years of activity of the Winter Soldier in CATWS, and I took creative liberty to say that a great part of the gap between 1945 and 1965 aprox were spent with Bucky in cryo while they developed the arm and everything that has to do with Winter Soldier Program, and the minority of them on his training and, in my ashamed little fanfic cannon, in the time between giving Azure a chance on controling him without their insight, and...what comes down in a few chapters.  
> Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope you took the time to read this because it's kind of important.  
> Love, Luce.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the end notes for clarification (and a cry for help) on certain aspects of the story!  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> Love, Luce.

_2014, New York_

“I don't feel guilt.” Azure taunted back, and both assassins stared at each other in silence, until a loud beep and a small shadow passing over them startled them both.

“Get down!” Natasha shouted, pushing Azure behind her as her teacher reached for Natasha's belt and unloaded the gun on the floating drone.

“Oh, man! That's the third this month, Natasha!” A deep voice complained from the other side of the door, both spies panting and staring at each other. Natasha realized what it was first, and was already collected by the time the tall, dark man walked through the doors with a playful smile on his face. When he saw the woman with white-blonde hair, his smile turned flirtatious, and walked to her extending his hand, “Sam Wilson is the name. I assume you are Anya? Heard you could help me with our missing person case.”

She put on a smile of her own, and shook his hand bringing herself slightly closer to him,

“I am indeed. Wanted to spy on us, Sam?” She teased, earning a laugh and a shake of his head from the man.

“Noo, not in a thousand years,” He pretended to whisper and pointed at the Black Widow, “She's scary.”

“You scared us, moron.”

“Third of my prototype toys this month, Nat. Stark will not be happy.” Sam bit back, smile still in place. Turning to the blonde, he said, “Back to business, sweet cheeks. I was told you have...abilities.”

Natasha barked a laugh from where she was sitting a few feet from them, putting her shoes back on, “If this is about her being a mutant, she is 'mutant-ing' you right now, Sam.”

Azure turned to the girl,

“How did you know?”

The other woman shrugged, “I have my ways.”

“Anyways, this isn't about that, this is about what she can do,” Sam pointed at the new addition to the tower, and then back to Natasha, “that you can do too and that freaks me out. It includes the legs thing.”

“We're taking her on a mission?” Natasha asked, a slight frown on her features.

“'She' is right here.”

They both ignored her.

“No. Of course not,” Sam flashed a smile to the redhead before he left the gym, “But Cap is!”

Silence followed, and both women stared at each other before turning their heads to the door, even though Sam was long gone.

The blonde huffed and ran a hand through her head.

“Well, shit. This is proving to be one massive screw-up.”

“Ditto.” The redhead replied to Anya's comment, making her furrow her nose.

“Hey. I can complain about how I'm going to fuck this up, or how I may already have, but you can't.”

__

Anya was sitting with her legs crossed under her, listening to Steve and Natasha bicker, or more like Natasha incriminating Rogers for things he was actually admitting to be doing. Sam was playing Blackjack with her while they listened, throwing, alongside Anya, one or two lines into the conversation every few minutes.

“They are letting you take her out.”

“I'm not a dog. And I'm right here!”

“Yes.”

“This is stupid.”

“You are coming with us.”

“This is even more stupid.”

“Stark's condition.”

“Still stupid, sailor, and I'm not in.”

“You would rather let her out on herself?”

“Not a dog!”

“You broke my toy because it scared you. A dog does the same thing. So shut up.”

“Leave her alone, Sam.”

At Steve's words, Anya stuck her tongue out, taunting Sam, but earning only a few laughs from the man the other side of her.

__

_1996, Belarus, Russia_

The girls were already formed when they opened the doors to let them in. A few guards were standing near them, and that was the first mistake Azure identified.

The Soldier walked ahead of her, gray-blue eyes on each person that moved, wary of all of them. Anya lay a hand on the center of his back to ground him, but still eyed the girls with a certain...respect, and the fear that comes with it.

“ _E in_ regula _._ Ei _nu_ vor _încerca, le-a fost spus să nu._ ” The Handler whispered, Romanian still hard on her native Russian tongue. But, they were both sure neither the girls nor the teachers could understand them.

“Fiind _învățați să acționeze într-un_ anumit _mod și urmând această comandă_ sunt _două_ lucruri diferite.”

She hid a wince, and faced the girls in an attempt to erase from her mind the last years. She had been put under ice for longer and longer periods of time, now that their 'Winter Soldier' proved to be, in their eyes at least, better than her. She did not remember much, but she did remember being woken up to see the Soldat dragged out of the cryo camera, him being gone for weeks and her being stuck with soldiers that had seen the seven hell's on one night, she did remember trying to train one of them once the Soldat had returned, and the pain that came after, James carrying her out because one of them had grabbed her and almost broken her spine. She did remember how after the failure of the soldiers' control, they had forced her to use -subtly- certain words when asking the Soldat something or preparing him for a mission.

She did remember that she did not come back from under the ice after that, not until they decided to send them back with the girls.

So she did know the world was not the same, and neither was James. To be honest, she did not even know if he was in there anymore.

At first, in those first years when they trained him and they developed his bionic arm better, when they chose to believe he was unstable instead of just plain denying their control over him; she remembers seeing a hint of his smile when they were sparring, or hearing him say her name, instead of 'Azure' when they were alone.

The changes came, but they were subtle. She remembers dead eyes staring back at her, until she snapped, afraid and bordering on helpless, and his heavy and yet kind gray-blue eyes came back to her; she remembers the way protecting her became more of an instinct than a choice. She remembers not seeing him smile at her in almost twelve years.

But, she decided, they were here now, and if their -her- redemption lay anywhere, it was in preparing these girls to survive.

So, with icy-blue eyes set on the group of girls, Azure stated, “All you need to know is to lie, all you need to be, is a lie. The rest...is commodities.”

__

They had been in the facility for almost two months now, James training the guards and Azure handling the girls.

They all had deep potential, and she would have found herself surprised by it, were she not in knowledge of the age they were brought in, and exactly what they did to strike ideas in their minds when they were but kids.

They had been trained not to question, only to comply, and the resemblance to what happened inside Hydra's main quarters did not go unnoticed by the Soviet.

But she still greeted the girls when she entered the room where they were practicing ballet and took them away from her teacher. Madame B. glared at her, but a smile from the younger woman that was not at all friendly kept her quiet.

“We will go out, girls. Tomorrow at 0600 hours we're leaving to Moscow. The world has changed, and you need to see it, dearies.”

“Azure, your superiors...”

“Have asked me to train these girls to resemble me. I am not actually good with guns, or fighting, Madame.

_That's a lie._

“I have the Soldat for that. He _knows_ he has to protect me, and he _wants_ to because I know how the world works, and I know how to show it to him.

_That's another lie._

_It's them who tell him he is actually doing good, he is saving the world. I only tell him the truth; that he is actually saving me._

“And because the girls will not be prized for their skills, but for their use of others', they need to see the world now that the order that protected them has fallen.”

_And that is another lie._

And she saw one of the girls, a thin and small-looking redhead nod at her in thanks on her way out, and smiled to herself.

_The order that is protecting and will protect the girls is standing right here._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, translations (a horrible google-translate use for Romanian, even though my Latin teacher says it should not be difficult, me being a native in Spanish and everything. But you know what? Romanian is effing hard. Aaanyways):
> 
> E in regula. Ei nu vor încerca, le-a fost spus să nu. (It's okay. They won't try, they were told not to.)
> 
> Fiind învățați să acționeze într-un anumit mod și urmând această comandă sunt două lucruri diferite. (Being taught to act a certain way and following that command are two different things.)
> 
> Aaand, clarifications (and the cry for help I mentioned):  
> *I used Romanian in this chapter because the Red Room being a Soviet facility, most, if not all, spoke Russian. And though Anya speaks French, according to the MCU the Winter Soldier knows English, Romanian and Russian (with a thick accent).  
> *I start panicking when I start thinking about the Black Widow timeline, the Winter Soldier timeline, and my sad little fanfiction's timeline. I'm a perfectionist by nature, and Gods, this is hard. But, consider Natasha being brought into the Red Room around 1990, being 6 or seven years old. When Azure and James join, however, she is around 12 (1996). They spend several years with them however. Sorry if this is confusing, and I mean this in the best way possible, if you have anyway of making this better, please tell me. Srsly, this is my cry fo help. Timelines screw with my head.  
> *Also, keep in mind Hydra hasn't started (in my cannon) with the wiping (imagine that horrible, horrible and yet amazingly acted scene in CATWS. Why, you ask? No reason, but I rewatched CATWS last night and feels bruied me again, so Thank you, now you suffer like I do ♥), but they do use the words, like Azure kind of hints at.  
> *If there's any questions or anything that I looked over, please let me know!  
> Thank you for reading! An please let me know what you think down there at the comments section!  
> Love, Luce.


	14. Chapter 14

_1998, Belarus, Russia_

The Soldat paced in front of her, as Anya pretended to ignore him and eyed the documents on her desk. He had joined her in training the girls around a years ago, and she could see what being away from Hydra's clutches had done to him -to both of them. She could sometimes glimpse at the side of him that she thought lost when their superiors chose to forget that they worked like a well-oiled machine when together, when they chose to forget _she_ existed. And tried to make him forget that too.

It was before Hydra even considered bringing in new Winter Soldiers that they realized, though similar, the Asset and Azure were not the same.

They got nothing out of Azure by manipulating her memories, nor did they by forcing a command upon her. She, apparently, did not need any stimulus to work efficiently for them, so they had no reasons to try and break her. It was almost as if she were a willing participant, or so she had led them to believe.

She had been trained to lie so efficiently even she believed her own tales in her weakest moments. She knew what they expected of her, and she knew what would guarantee her survival: a lie. On the beginning, she remembers reading a whole thesis about how, when the serum was applied to her, like it had done to Schmidt, it had enhanced her most prominent feature. In her case, it had been the yearning for submission. The reason? Biology. She was a woman, genetically designed to acknowledge her desire of compliance to men.

Her mind, her very soul bellowed and berated about how wrong they all were, about how their pride would be their downfall, but...that pride, that blindness had kept her alive this long. So she gritted her teeth but did nothing when they bragged about how they had created the first perfect soldier in mind, but how she would always be a weakling in body. She could not, not at first. But later, even before they brought James back for the first time, she had already forged a name for herself, and they would not dare touch a hair on her head; not only out of fear for their superiors but of her own skills and what they thought to be unhinged rage she could bring about.

The same did not apply to Barnes, however. He seemed to be constantly fighting Hydra’s control -even though, Anya knew, it was a control that _he_ could delimit, for he was conscious, although not free-, and seemed to only comply when either Azure was involved, or...other tactics were put to use. He seemed to believe there was a beyond for them, that there was...freedom awaiting at the other side of a closed door.

She had forgotten how it felt to be free already, and sadly, she knew he would too.

So she knew that in the years she had spent under ice while he was sent in riskier and riskier missions, that neither the world that shun them without knowing nor the world that pretended to embrace them had been kind to him. Anya could sometimes see the shadows and the ghosts take over his eyes, even when they were doing nothing but having breakfast.

But she knew -or she liked to tell herself she did- that he was...more here than there, now. She could see it, she could catch the glances he threw her way, or the cockiness in his stance.

Sometimes.

Other times, he came back, and it was not Brooklyn-accented words, a coy smile, or the pet-name she had learned to love. And in those times, he went through every motion in the day as if the ground were to cave under his feet. She would notice that he would keep one thing of his close at all times, were it his knife or his coffee mug in the morning. She would catch him standing either slightly in front of her or at her back. When they retired to their quarters, he would take the bed closer to the door.

Or he would act like the faceless soldiers of back 'home' would break in and shoot her between the eyes at any given moment.

Or worse, _he_ would.

And here they were now, in her office, with her soldier furious out of his mind because she had told Natalia _her name._

“You exposed yourself.” He gritted out, not stopping on his maddening track over the floor.

She sighed, “I did not. They need someone to trust, James, I just...showed them I was someone they could trust.”

“You cannot be trusted, Anya!” He yelled back, not seeing, or choosing to ignore how her expression hardened, “You have barely made it out alive these past years, and now you let _children_ know about...this.”

The blond woman stood up, and ditched every ounce of her training and who she was that told her, pushed her even, to be what _he_ wanted her to be, like she did when she flirted with the guards, or pretended to be afraid in front of an old man who thought he was free of sin. She ignored that, and stood before him as if she too was as tall and broad as the best of soldiers, and not an only slightly muscular woman that could barely reach the Soldier's shoulder.

“'Barely made it out alive'?” She repeated, “You forget what I can do, what I _did_ , darlin', if you think I'm powerless without you.”

“I do not think that. I know what you are capable off, Ann.”

“Then what? What is so terrible about Natalia knowing my name? Why do you keep acting like next time I go under the ice I won't come back?” She shouted back, still attempting fruitlessly to intimidate him by standing close, so close should almost hear his heart beating angrily. But her words carried a deeper question, because she relied on him to guard her back, she relied on him to know what was to come before her, so she continued,” Why are you looking at me like I may die tomorrow?”

His metallic hand went to the back of her head, tangling in her loose platinum locks, and brought her face even closer as he slanted his lips over hers in a bruising kiss.

It was nothing like the secret kissed exchanged in the cold halls of Siberia, or the gentle 'come back to me' kisses exchanged after missions that seemed to strive to take away his humanity. No, this was desperate, feral as if everything she had just accused him of was not an irrational fear on his part, but something he knew was going to happen.

As if he had already prepared himself to lose her.

His teeth dug on her lower lip, and his lips moved insistingly over her; and yet his flesh hand had reached up to hold her cheek, thumb caressing her cheekbone lovingly.

Anya surrendered to it all, leaving everything she had built around herself, each and every lie that had made her who she was and giving into the kiss. When he broke them apart and pressed their foreheads together, a sound that she would deny to her own grave was a whimper left her now red lips.

“They have asked me to kill you,” James whispered against her lips, the words leaving him on a rasp, as if the mere thought of it was hurting him, “Many times now. I...I don't know what will happen when I can't fight them any longer.”

She stepped back, her expression wary and her eyes searching his, “Fight them?”

James growled, and turned his back at her. After a few seconds of watching his broad shoulders rise and fall with forced even breaths, the brunet turned to her and motioned to his head,

“They are here, I can...I know they are lying to me, I _know_ , but...” He shook his head, almost to himself, and decided to take another way, “They are proving that I can _comply_ ” The word seemed to had to fight to come out of his lips, as if either his pride or his humanity had tried to prevent him from saying it, “without your supervision and...they think you are...dispensable, and G-God, Anya, sometimes I _believe them_.”

Only a gasp could leave her lips, “...What?”

She stared with big eyes as his breathing returned to the previous heavy pattern, and contained a wince when he raised his metal hand and hit himself on the side of his hand with it.

“I'm sick in the head, Doll! They are in here, and I can hear them. How long until I wake up and your dead eyes are staring back? How long until it is _your blood on my hands_?

He advanced towards her, and took her hand in his, gray-blue eyes shining as they searched hers,

“That's why you can't...you can't trust the girls, Doll. If...if they find out about this...”

She reached up, laying a hand on his cheek and promptly stopping his anxious rant.

“We will be okay, James,” She whispered, the lie coming out of her lips so easily that she knew he would believe her. She even believed herself, “We are survivors, you and I.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is different from other chapters, but we're around a kind of breaking point in the story, so I needed this chapter to kind of shape what will happen later. You will find out in later chapters, which, considering I have a midterm today and another one on Monday, will come around Wednesday or Friday next week, tops.  
> Thank you for reading!!  
> PLEASE, I really want your opinion on this chapter, so please let me know your thoughts down below!!  
> Thank you, my darlings,  
> Love, Luce


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeyy! PLEASE let me know what you think of this!! Please, I'm really insecure about this chapter and the one before, and I want to know if you guys are...I don't know, interested in it? I don't know, please let me know, even if it is to yell at me.  
> Hope you enjoy,  
> Love, Luce.

_2014, Over the Pacific Ocean_

“How can I know if you are not 'Gene X'-ing me now?” Sam asked for the thousandth time, and while Azure looked at Natalia for help, her former student hid a smile and pretended to care for the controls of a ship that flies itself.

“Because you would not be annoying the fuck out of me if I were, darlin'.”

“Or that is what you want me to believe.” The former military insisted, forcing Anya to drop her head into her hands and mutter another curse in Russian.

“Leave her alone, Sam,” Steve called from the back, with a fatherly voice that she knew was not real.

_Never try to lie to a deceiver, dear. I know you are as broken as the rest of us._

But she kept her lips sealed closed, and nodded in thanks to the Captain when he appeared through the plane's small door.

“You trust me, Captain?”

“You have not given me a reason not to. Yet.” He said with ease, not a trace of a lie on his voice; and something within her tried to break.

“I am...I was a part of the reason your friend lost himself, Steve.”

“You are also the reason he stayed alive. He told me about Austria, Anya.” He shot back.

The yellowed and wrinkled letter she still kept with her, unopened, seemed to burn a hole through her tactical suit when she faced the sincerity in his baby blue eyes. Anya stood up, and signaled to the end of the ship with her head, asking Steve to talk alone with her.

“Even Natalia is smart enough not to believe me, why aren't you? And you can't tell me it's because your pal back in the day told you about me. I could've been lying to him too.” She spat, trying to put venom in her voice, in her words, but even then she failed.

What had happened that had made her so weak? What was with this group of...misfits that made her feel not so destructive?

“Did you, lie to him?” Steve asked. Anya shook her head in response. “Then you have my answer. And Natasha may not trust you, but she does care for you. And she although she is...very private, I know she is part of the reason Fury was not allowed to take you to a prison way worse than Stark's.”

Her cerulean eyes narrowed, “Part of the reason?”

“It wouldn't be horrible to have you around.” He said with a breathy laugh, that she properly thanked for with a smile of her own.

But her smile quickly turned into a frown, and she walked away from him.

“Don't...don't try to make me one of the good guys, Steve. I am not. I was not kidnapped and brought into Hydra's control, I was not lied to in order to be forced into compliance, I _chose_ this life.

Anya ran a hand trough her hair as a huff left her lips,

“I am the definition of a villain, Steve. I _chose_ to hurt all those people, I _chose_ to let Hydra lead my hand, I _chose_ this.”

He kept calm, even though there was a slightly unhinged assassin heaving in front of him, big icy-blue eyes set on his.

And his calm infuriated her.

“Would you choose the same path again?” She shook her head, “Then you can be redeemed.”

“Anyone can say they shouldn't have put on their nice shoes once they are knee-deep in shit! I am no better than that twisted asshole Rumlow -that I hope you killed, by the way, and slowly- because I saw my mistakes, and you know why?” She did not wait for an answer, and continued, “Because I still made them. They are still mine, and the consequences of them lay on _my_ shoulders, Steve.

She growled, and turned around again, pacing in the small private space they shared.

“You know how perfect the world would be if we were all free of fault in the second we realized we did wrong? But it doesn't work that way, because the people we hurt, the people we let down, they do not heal or...come back because we realized we went head-first into a wall, Rogers!”

One big hand wrapped itself around her forearm, gently stopping her in her rant. Taking one deep breath, Anya raised her eyes to Steve's.

“When Bucky fell from the train, the serum Zola developed kept him alive. Is it my fault that he was turned into the Winter Soldier because I did not jump, thinking we would both die?” He asked, his voice soothing her, but the meaning behind his words hurting her. For how long had he been battling his own demons by himself? Because she knew, he was honestly asking her if he was at fault for Bucky's death.

“It's not,” She whispered, but quickly added, “But it's not the same.”

Steve moved his hands to her shoulders, calmly rubbing soothing circles over her gear-covered skin. A small voice in the corner of her mind told her that he probably did not realize he was standing so close and acting so...familiar towards her, or he would have already blushed and stammered a thousand times over.

She missed that, the...goodwill, of people.

“Why are you so hell-bent on blaming yourself?”

She smiled sadly at him but did not resist when he wrapped her in a comforting hug.

She remembers now why she did not see much of people's goodwill.

Because she extinguished it, every goddamned time.

__

_2000, Belarus, Russia_

She watched with weary eyes as Alexander Pierce walked to her and took a seat in front of her desk, facing her directly.

It was the first time she was face-to-face with Hydra's new director, and having him come into the Red Room, into her home...it struck a cord in her.

But, she could not react. He was almost taunting her to, in a sick way of proving himself he was above them puppets.

“You know, I would not stop hearing tale after tale of the Asset's skill and proficiency, but I never heard a thing about you.”

She bit out, “I prefer to lay low, Sir.”

“Even among your family?”

“My family?” She asked, fists clenching under the table.

“Well, I've read about you, girl, and you have nothing else but us. We are your family now, so tell me, why hide from us?”

_You sick son of..._

Nope, can't say that.

_I hope Shield finds out about you, you bastard, and you rot where you deserve, you powerful fuck._

“I do not hide, Sir. I...assimilate, and act accordingly, and I have found that people usually pretend to be something else when they are aware of who I am.”

_Or aware of the fact that I am alive and awake inside this shell I pretend to be, darlin'._

_So, I hope one day you realize, I can see your rotten core._

Pierce leaned back on the chair, crossing his hands over his stomach, covered by a very expensive-looking suit.

“I am aware of that, girl. Your work is astonishing,” The blondish man chuckled to himself, and corrected, “ _You_ are, if I'm being honest. Now I wonder: why, if you are so much of a shadow to the Asset as you seem to be, would you be together in most high-risk assignments.”

Azure had the feeling she was playing with the Devil in a game with stakes so high she could not even comprehend them. Like the only way to win was not to make a move.

The blond girl tried to force a smile on her face; only yo fail and stare down at her superior with a feral glint in her eyes.

“I was instructed to keep him in check, Sir. Colonel Karpov informed me Doctor Zola confirmed the theory that the Soldat responds better to me.”

“Yes, but don't you think it's a...risk to yourself, dear? To be so easily connected to the Asset?”

Her pride won the battle with her rational mind, “I am the best-trained woman within Hydra, Sir. I one of the higher ranking officers in action since the forties.”

“Yes, but your girls aren't, are they?”

Her blood froze.

She knew where he was going. She knew he was going to force her to choose.

The door to her office shot open, an angry and yet collected looking Natalia on the other side.

“Natalia, get out.” Azure hissed, eyes still set on the Director.

The 16-year-old ignored her, “There are soldiers in the facility. Other than Director Pierce's guards.”

Anya stood up, chair flying backwards and placed herself slightly in front of Natalia when Pierce slowly stood up.

“They will retrieve the Asset from your care. To avoid any...incidents. Don't you agree, Azure?”

They say when the floor caves under you, when you suddenly find yourself tripping over the edge of the abyss, you see everything under a new light. You can see everything, understand anything, and it is as if the world has stopped spinning, time has stopped flowing and your heart has stopped beating; all to let you exist an eternity in that moment when you know nothing will ever be the same, in that moment when you lose it all.

And it is all bullshit. Poetic bullshit.

Anya could feel Natalia's eyes on her, see Pierce hand extended towards her, and hear the suffocated beat of her heart on her ears. But she could understand nothing.

She could not understand how was it that yesterday her worries lay in the way the young red-head looked at her soldier, and that she was running out of paper in her fax machine. She could not understand how she had been so blind, how she thought, in childish hope, that this imperfect world of theirs would continue to be theirs and theirs alone until the sand in their clocks ran out.

She could not understand how she was asked to make a choice now. She could not understand how she could choose.

She could not understand _why_.

But all those times she tensed at James dead eyes staring back at her, or heard him pleading her forgiveness in his sleep, came jabbing to her mind, making her realize maybe Pierce was right.

Maybe she had been lying to herself, about...about this twisted happiness of theirs.

Maybe it was all a lie.

So she swallowed and lowered her eyes to the ground.

_Please, forgive me._

“Go ahead, Sir.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My offer is still up. If you want to yell at me in the comments for what Azure did, go ahead. I kind of want to yell at me too.  
> Anyways, would love to hear from you!  
> Love, Luce.


	16. Chapter 16

_2014, Over Omsk, Russia_

Anya closed her eyes, and breathed in the musky scent of his uniform and something that was uniquely _him_.

“You should stop.” She mumbled against his chest, prompting Steve to take a step back respectfully. The part of her that really appreciated way...certain parts of him looked in the tactical gear cursed his inner gentleman.

“I-I'm sorry.”

“I don't mean...” She cursed in Russian under her breath and ran a hand through her platinum hair, “I mean stop...putting expectations on me. I'm not good at pleasing people, or even keeping them safe. So...don't look at me like I'm gonna bring James home and then somehow you will get a happy ending and _please_ don't look at me like _I_ could have one.”

“Hey, hey. No one expects anything from you, nothing more than you are willing to give.” He soothed, hands again on her shoulders, and she fought to force back the pleasing sensation of feeling actually _safe._

She forced a smile, “Natasha expects me to trip and fall over my own knife, probably.”

He chuckled, and shook his head, “Don't tell her I said this, but she is a big softie.”

Anya's smile turned real and she shook her head, closing her icy-blue eyes.

“Something tells me I'm gonna regret this, Steve.”

“'This' as in staying, or 'this' as in...me?”

“As in you.” She answered, wrinkling her nose at the weird conversation they were both having. They remained in silence for a few seconds, until a throat clearing from the doorway brought them back to the present and the situation at hand.

Sam leaned on the wall, signaling Azure with a gesture of his head that she should go to the main area of the plane.

“You are landing in 10 minutes.”

“I am? What about you?” Her eyes danced between the man with the short black hair who now eyed her warily and the Captain. Steve cleared his throat and spoke up,

“We cannot be seen together, not if we mean to fool this guy Natasha found. So you and Nat are going down first, and we will meet you after you completed the job.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Why do I feel there's more than you are letting on?”

He smiled at her and took a step ahead to place a big hand on her small shoulder.

“You will be fine. We'll have your back.”

_No one but myself protects me, dear._

So she put on a smile on her face and stood on her tiptoes to kiss the Captain's cheek.

“I am always fine, dear, with or without your big ol' shield guarding my back,” She turned back to the men with a smile on her face, “When are we landing?”

Sam chuckled,

“Oh, _we_ are not.”

The roaring sound of a motorcycle engine coming to life sent a shiver down Anya's spine.

“Scared of heights, Azure?” Natalia called from the other side of the ship, raspy voice loaded with mirth and utter delight at making the Russian assassin look like a cat trapped in an elevator.

“Scared of bikes, actually. But you already knew that.” Azure bit out, earning a pleased laugh from the redhead, who, she saw once she stepped into the room, was already sitting in the black motorcycle, helmet on her elbow and another waiting for Azure in the seat.

“Of course I did.”

__

_2000, Belarus, Russia_

“Sloppy, pretending to fail.” Madame criticized strictly, arms crossed under her chest as the trainer released Natalia. Azure walked in and winked at the Russian man standing behind her student, motioning him to back off.

He did, without a second of hesitation. He even smiled.

_And to think I feared I had lost my touch._

“She is not,” Azure corrected, standing next to the older woman, and facing both Natalia and the rest of the girls, “I am truly disappointed you have not understood yet, Madame.”

And of course, the other woman bit the bait.

“Understand what?”

“That not all is strength and speed, my dear. War is not won on the battlefield, and that is what we are training our girls to do.”

“You...”

“ _I_ was chosen above six other Soldiers to destabilize the USSR. _I_ was vital in Hydra's infiltration on Shield. And _I_ outrank you, so shut the fuck up and don't ever question me or any of my students again,” Azure smiled viciously at the other woman, “Thank you, love. Now, ta ta.”

The other woman had to bit her tongue, but left the room barking for the other trainer to follow her.

Azure turned to see Natalia hiding a smile on her full lips, eyes shining with mirth, but her teacher pointed a finger at her and chastised.

“You. This is the last time I see you going against Madame's wishes. She is to be listened to and respected.”

“ _You_ taught me to defy her.”

“I gave you the tools to do so, but I taught you to be smart about your use of them. You are not resisting, or defying them now. You are just making them angry, and that's a dangerous game to play, Natalia.” Azure said, and turned her back at the girl, facing the wall covered in mirrors.

“Maybe I want them angry at me.”

The blond tsked, but did not turn, “ _Maybe_ you are being a twat and not listening to me. I promised to protect you girls, but you have to _listen_.”

“Protect us? Like you were supposed to protect Barnes?”

Azure could hear the slight ruffle of the girl's feet on the floor, anchoring her to the floor as Natalia prepared herself for a fight. She expected a reaction from Azure, the reaction they _knew_ she was bound to give, considering they knew she was free of Hydra's binds -unlike the Asset- as they had seen when Natalia had screamed and bellowed at their teacher for letting the Soldier be taken away and Anya had reacted by waiting for the Soldat with the dead eyes staring down and the dozen men surrounding him to leave the room and pinning Natalia to the wall, snarling at her to control her emotions if she wanted to keep her heart within her chest.

But Azure did not react.

“I want you repeating last week's contraption and escape.” The blond stated, turning back around with her chin up and her icy-blue eyes cleared of any emotion.

The redhead before her stuttered, “W-What?”

“Last week's technique was not completely mastered. I want you working in pairs.”

“You are just going to forget about him?”

The air in the room shifted, and even one of the students walked ahead and took Natalia by the arm, trying to get her to calm down, but the girl shook off her grip, and stared with anger, distrust, and pain back at her teacher. Anya's eyes glossed over for a second, as if she were lost in the current of some river that was dragging everything in its wake, forcing her past and her present to coexist in the chaos of its tides.

“I don't forget, dear, I was never given a chance to.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm not entirely happy about this chap, that's probably why it took me so long to update. Aaanyways, I would love to know what you think and...yeah, Idk.  
> Love, Luce


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone who has bothered with hitting the kudos button, or leaving a comment! You honestly made my day!  
> I'm sorry if it seems like I hold back until I get feedback to post another chap, but like I said I will not be trying to follow a schedule here, and any comment just inspires me to write because it makes me realize SOMEONE out there is reading this and actually enjoys it! It's amazing. So sorry, and...thank you, and...hope you enjoy my darling ones!  
> And more clarifications about...stuff on the end notes!

_2014, Outskirts of Omsk, Russia_

After about twenty minutes of driving at a bone-chilling speed through the almost deserted road, Natasha in front of a 5'4 screeching woman who seemed to get smaller and smaller every time the redhead hit a bump or sped up; they stopped at the limits of the city, and went inside a bed-and-breakfast to warm themselves up.

“I assume you have a plan.” Anya gritted, holding the mug over her lips.

Natasha smiled, “You would be wrong.”

With that sensitivity and attention to the detail she had had since she was but a child -that she now had to creepily identify as her 'mutation' at work- Anya narrowed her eyes and deduced,

“You need one of my contacts.”

“I don't _need_ anything, dear.” The redhead teased, a smile on her lips.

“But you want to make this a test, so you will 'depend' on me for us to get to the Colonel.”

“General.”

“Same piece of shit, only one was covered with a Kleenex, dear.”

“You got a safe-house or not?”

“Not...particularly. But I can work something out.” Anya answered, standing up and quickly donning her jacket on the way out.

“You didn't pay!”

“You will! I don't work for free, darlin'!”

The sound of a low laugh in a raspy voice followed her out.

__

“Why am I not surprised?” Was the first thing they heard as the young woman opened the door.

“Because you already knew I was coming?” Anya smiled, taunting her former student. The tall, elegant woman before her closed her brown eyes and shook her head in a clear sign of defeat.

“Come in. Take off your coats, leave them on the hanger by the door. And for the love of God, don't try to pet my cat.” The woman stated turning her back at them and leaving the front door to the...suburban looking house open. Natasha and Anya shared a look before entering at the same time, following the required steps. “You want tea? 'Cause I'm making fucking tea anyways.”

Anya laughed out loud, and walked into the living room, lifting a gray cat from the coffee table and placing it on her lap. Natasha watched the scene unfold before her with suspicious eyes and a hand twitching to get to her gun on her waist.

“And how did she find you, Nat?” The woman asked from the kitchen, chatting as if they were friends reunited after a long time apart, and not a distant contact in southern Russia and a person in need of the resources, “I would say faking your own death would get you rid of her, but she's sitting in my fucking living room right now, and she's... _petting my fucking cat!_ Anya, let Madame go!” She yelled as she walked into the room, prompting her former teacher to smile with mirth.

“You named your cat 'Madame'? You're sick.”

“And you're a hypocrite.” The amber-colored-skin woman replied with a smirk. They heard a gasp from the red-head still standing by the door.

“Elena!?” Natalia spat, a hand reaching up to cover her mouth.

“In the flesh.”

“You were...dead.”

“Yeah, no I wasn't. The So-...Barnes and Azure here helped me plan my escape when my parents made it to their radar. Apparently, I was not an orphan and...my family wanted me back.” Elena explained with a small smile, while her former 'friend' and colleague stared at her.

“And you are still in this...job?”

“I'm not a spy, if that's what you mean. But I know enough. So I...help, sometimes.”

“Sometimes.”

“Remember a bubbly blonde that was chasing after her sister and the guy that threatened to take over the world a few years ago? Yeah, I uh, worked with her back then.” She sat down on the sofa, cup of tea in her hands, and motioned for Natalia to sit. She continued with a smile, big brown eyes dancing between Anya and Natalia, “And I assume I will have to help you too?”

Anya stared at her for a few seconds, seeing in the way the light caught over her face, giving her dark skin a bronze-like glow, and in the way she smiled brightly even though she had sworn she was against Anya showing up at her place; the future any of the girls could have had, but Hydra took away from.

She quickly recovered, though, and started,

“Yes, we need entrance to a popular night club from the center of the city...ehm, what is its name, Natasha?”

“I'm not done,” The redhead spat, walking towards them. “You are Elena, the kid from America that could not tell the hour by a normal clock?”

“That's a weird fact, but yes,” She smiled, “And I'm glad to see you, Natalia.”

Anya could sense a strange pull in the air, as if past and present were fighting a vicious battle not only within herself, but Natalia as well. Oddly enough, not being the only one going insane because of their past catching up, was comforting.

But Natasha smiled at the other woman, and nodded once.

“It's nice to see you, too.” She said. Anya could sense a little...resentment in her words, but chose to keep her mouth shut.

The hostess turned back to her former teacher,

“It's not nice to see you, you always bring trouble. But...you look the same, Azure.”

She chuckled, “Cryo-sleep will do that to ya,” Her tone turned accusatory when she added, “You do too.”

“Ehm...What?”

“Your hair, those uncontrollable curls of yours. They are the same since you were a girl.”

“So?”

“It's dangerous, it's a way for people to recognize you.” She started, a motherly edge to her voice that was starting to freak her out.

“So is Natalia's red hair, or that damned wine-colored lipstick you have been probably wearing since the 40's.” Elena bit back, “We are all defined by something. We all belong somewhere.”

Natasha scoffed, “Easy to say for the girl whose family came back for.”

Elena kept her smile on,

“Didn't Anya come back for you?”

____

_2001, Belarus, Russia_

Azure watched as the helicopter landed near the entrance to the building, her long platinum hair tied back, backpack on her shoulder and Natalia by her side.

“How long will you be gone for?” The girl asked, but Azure's icy-blue eyes did not gravitate away from the couple of agents walking towards her and her...the girl she had learned to call a sister. This mission, this sudden need of her...it was a ploy, she knew, to test her.

And she would gladly die before giving them the satisfaction of breaking her facade.

Rumors about the Asset's new-found proficiency and accreditation for new assassinations had reached her ears, and Anya could not help but think about Zola's machine back in the forties, and the marks it left on James' cheekbones. She could not help but think about what would be of him -if he was still himself- were she to see him when they brought her 'home' for another mission.

She wondered what would Hydra now know about James and herself, and about how awake they were, for better or for worse, during most of their time under their command.

So they were doing everything to taunt her out of her shell, suggesting a new agent to fill her place with the girls during her absence, offering her a 'bodyguard', now that she no longer had the Soldat at her back...she may or may have not set on fire the dignitary's car before he left, but he had it coming, and he would not be able to point the finger at her.

She didn't turn to Natalia, though she did answer, in a low voice, softer than she had heard it since even before Pierce took James away, “A while. I will be back before you start missing me.”

“Uh, I will not miss you.” The redhead retorted, and Anya could hear the smile in her voice.

“Exactly,” She mumbled, watching the agents creep closer and closer. In a final conspiratorial whisper, she added, “Take care of the girls while I'm gone.I'll come back, I promise.”

__

_2014, Omsk, Russia._

Natasha scoffed at Elena's words, leaning back in her chair,

“Not in the way you may think.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okaay, here we go:  
> *Pay close attention to the names I use when I describe a character. I don't use Natasha/Natalia, Azure/Anya or Soldat, Asset/James as synonyms to one another, and there's a lot of hints of what Anya is thinking or feeling in the way the third person narrator -that has her perspective, usually- refers to people, even herself.  
> *Yep, that's basically it. There's this comment by @HellKat where they posted a question about Natasha's involvement with Shield and her parallel knowledge of Hydra and Pierce and everything, regarding how or why she does not say anything once she joins Shield. Check out my answer if you had a similar question and...  
> *ANY questions (even if it is to ask Anya's grandfather's hobby, srsly) you may have you can go ahead and ask them in the comments section, or in my tumblr @I-cant-believe-its-not-a-writer. I'll be giddy-glad to answer them!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii, this is a bit of a short chapter, but yeah...not much else.  
> Please let me know what you think!! I will seriously happily dance ven if you comment with the following message :). Or even this :(.  
> Srsly tho, I would like to know what you guys think of this...mess I dare call a fanfic, and where you would like it to go...Idk  
> Leave me a request for a oneshot if you like! I've been meaning to write something alike a drabble but I don't have good ideas, lol.  
> Anyways, sorry for the groveling, hehe.  
> Hope you enjoy,  
> Love, Luce

_2014, Omsk, Russia_

Elena bid them farewell with a smile and a cover for their presence in the nightclub Natasha's research assured them a former member of Hydra, with presumed access to files he should have was living the -kind of sad- life of a 50 something man with a lot of money but very little anything else.

Azure had chosen a hotel that was equally near Elena in case they needed backup -'I will not be your go-to house when you fuck things up, Azure. Dammit'- and the center of the city where the General -or was it Colonel?- had spent the last two months in a retreat. The former Red Orchestra smiled ruefully when she saw her student walk in headfirst, check each and every window and possible escape route, and secure a weapon near the bed she had assumed would be hers.

“You could chain yourself to a grenade, if it makes you feel more comfortable around me, dear.” Anya mumbled, dropping her bag on the floor with a dull thump.

“Don't act like you so easily trust me, Anya.”

“Oh, is it Anya now?”

The other woman did not respond, so Azure turned her back at her, and watched over the Russian city with her arms crossed over her chest.

 _What are we doing? We are but stumbling children, chasing after a_ Ghost.

Regret clouded her heart, and she could not help but berate herself again and again going to Elena for help.

When James had found out about her parents being alive and once again reunited with one another once the Wall fell, they both had done the impossible to get that girl home, and try to secure a life for her away from the madness of this world of spies and secrets and death.

She had promised herself that darkness would not touch the one girl that had managed to escape the lion's den unharmed; but she had gone ahead and used her again. She knew Elena did not mind, and that she, like Natalia, was not a child anymore, but Anya had still endangered her when contacting her.

She _knew_ , the same way her father knew when a storm was coming, or her mother knew when one of her brothers was making a mess somewhere, that Rumlow was alive, and the stubborn son of a bitch would not rest until he had found her.

Because the sick fuck was aware he could not take down the Asset on himself, but he had the sexist delusion that she was weaker without James, that she was even remotely within his grasp. It was honestly...hilarious.

But he still could get to Elena, or her parents, or anyone else and...

 _And this is why you don't trust people,_ she told herself, _because no matter how hard you try, you are nothing but the enemy, nothing but a ticking bomb waiting to destroy and be destructed._

Not for the first time in her life though, Anya could hear her mother's voice inside her head, telling her to strengthen that back, lift that chin, and face the world with its endless tides, because it would not stop for her, so she better _make it_.

_2002, Siberia_

Anya walked into the facility, forcing her eyes to stay directly ahead and her jaw not to clench.

Pierce was there. He would know.

So she waltzed within the halls, finally 'home' after a 7-months long mission, a couple of agents following her trail as she directed them.

“I need a report on the Red Room's operations on the time I was gone, and every dossier that has been sent to central command involving it. For yesterday, dear.” One of the agents nodded, wrote something down, and drifted away from her after a court nod. She stopped, and turned towards the one in the white robe following her, “I went through a physical and psychological exam right after my debrief, Dr. I am sure your repetition of it can wait until the Director has talked to me.”

“Don't be so rude, little girl.” Pierce's voice interrupted, with a both sweet and poisonous tone.

Azure did not turn.

“I assumed you were seeking a personal debrief, Sir. I mean no offense, but why else would you be here?”

She could have kept the venom from coating her words even if she had tried. And she didn't.

“That I do, child. In fact, I have multiple questions regarding your prolonged absence.”

She hid a smile. _You want to play, asshole? I have the upper hand now SO fuck you, and your sick ego that inflates when you establish dominance over someone -apparently- dead inside._

“I assumed as much, Sir.”

“Care to share?” Pierce taunted, and a twisted part of Azure was glad when a few agents stopped in their tracks to watch the exchange.

“I found the agent,” _The boy, the fucking boy, you prick_ , “that you had asked me to interrogate and dispatch. But in his residence there was several files of classified information, Sir. So, I looked into it. He had been selling Hydra's secrets for near a decade, so when I tried to find the leak he surely must have had from within -and with a significantly high rank- I discovered his...identity, Sir.”

The blond man's face contorted for a fraction of a second, but he had started the dance, and this time she was leading, so all he could do was keep up or fall.

So he bit the bait, even though he knew he would be pulled out of the water.

“His identity, Azure?”

She nodded, “Yes, Sir. He was apparently a 'protegee' of sorts of you sir, whose actions against Hydra that caused his...extraction from our organization were hidden, someway.

So she went on and on, fighting her pride to keep the smile from breaking the facade, about how the boy had started selling Hydra out even before Pierce was a high-rank officer, but still always under his command. Of course, the now Director did not know, and could not be held accountable for another man's sins, but when he did find out, he protected his ass-licking little boy and sent him to somewhere in the Middle East with a lot -a serious fucking lot- of cold hard cash to buy his silence and his...survival.

So she called him out, and though he would not fall,would not even be reprimanded by their superiors, his troops would now.

And even if the troops didn't give a damn, she enjoyed _every last second of it._

But then Pierce smiled back at her, with a terrifying smile that whispered in fear about the thousands of moments of pain that smile had caused, and turned away.

"You are dismissed, girl. Feel free to roam around the place."

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heey! Just a quick note: this chap, mostly the pub scene and Azure's motivation when it has to do with finding James back is greatly inspired by James Arthur's 'Back from the Edge'. I took it as a direct statement by Azure: "I'm back for my heart, I'm back for the man that, had he been able to, would have reached for the stars themselves. I'm finally breaking free of the demons that controlled me -us- for so long'.  
> Idk, just wanted you to know that that song was on borderline-annoying repeat while I wrote this.

_2014, Omsk, Russia_

“So the Captain and Falcon will be waiting for us...where?” Azure questioned, striking blue eyes, now accentuated by her dark make up focusing on Natasha. She finished placing a bobby pin on her hair -that Anya would not be surprised to find out was actually an explosive device- and turned to the blonde.

“Sam will be posted as a security guard. Steve will remain outside of the perimeter. He's much of a celebrity, and it could scare our target away.”

“And we aren't? Come on, dear, you remember there was once this soldier that shot himself to avoid us charging towards him?”

“You are frightening, Azure, but you seem to forget that a bullet that men fired grazed your cheek right before.”

“So?”

“So I realized why you weren't dead yet that day. Not only because of what you can do, but because of what people around you can do _for_ you.” Natasha muttered, reaching up and correcting a strand of Anya's platinum blonde hair that had escaped the elegant bun she had put up.

The other woman narrowed her eyes, “Are you talking about James or yourself?”

“Neither, both, who knows?” She said, and took a step back, assessing her work. Her gaze and her one hardened, though, when she said, “Should I include Steve in that list?”

“Steve?”

“I warned you not to play with him,” Natasha turned around checked her phone and stored it in her purse as if they were discussing the right way to serve lamb. “But you are not, are you? Playing with him, I mean. You are drawn in.”

“I'm apparently a mutant that is capable of manipulating people around her at will, Natalia. Will you truly let your Captain fall because of hunch?”

“You conveniently forget who trained me, Azure. I know your tricks, and that is not it.” Natasha shot back, fully aware of how the other woman seemed to strive to dodge her question. “And don't think he is so vulnerable, _darlin'._ ”

“I know he isn't. That's the point. I've seen men as strong as him fall to worse fates, Natalia.” Anya shook her head, and pretended to check her eyeliner on the mirror, promptly changing the topic.“It does not matter. You said the Captain will remain within safe distance, then? In case it goes south?”

“What, you want him to protect you?”

_She is one annoying little know-it-all._

_At least some things never change._

“I don't need anyone's protection.”

“I didn't say you did.”

“I do not want it either.”

Natasha smiled, grabbing her jacket from the hanger and putting it on over her black and red dress.

“That's not what I remember.”

“What you remember doesn't matter. That world is dead now.”

__

“You have eyes on him?” Natasha asked over the brim of her glass, back to the rest of the bar, facing Azure as she scanned the place in search of their target.

The blonde scoffed, “Of course I do. Who do you think you are talking to?”

“Nice to see your arrogance hasn't grown.” Natasha quipped in sarcastically, forcing down the urge to roll her eyes.

“It isn't arrogance if I'm actually up to the challenge,” The other woman said, leaving her glass over the table and walking to the retired General, an extra sway on her hips that turned more than one head around to watch. “You better have my back, Natalia.”

“You are not going in alone, are you?” She whispered, turning around and grabbing the blonde's arm, stopping her. “He obviously knows who you are.”

“That's why _I_ will be the one to be on his reach. He will not hurt me.”

“Are you really so sure?”

“The thing about ghosts, love, is that they are forever feared, no matter where they are. As far as that waste of oxygen is aware, the Soldat has my back.”

“That is your plan?”

“No, my plan is that I have something way more dangerous than James at my six, dear. Now _move_.”

Reluctantly, the redhead let go of her former teacher, and watched out of the corner of her eye as the woman in the emerald green dress walked past the security men posted near the General's table, and boldly sat in front of him.

The area was secluded form the rest of the bar, considering what this man had done on that very table, so Azure cocked her head to the side, and slowly unsheathed her vibranium-aloy knife, playing with it distractedly.

Icy-blue eyes set on the girl perched on his lap, “Go away while you can, girl. Trust me on this one.”

The young woman shot a puzzled glance at the man next to her, but decided to walk away when she saw his eyes set on the woman on the booth ahead.

The General, on the other hand, lay back and twirled his glass of whiskey in his hand.

“I thought you were dead.”

“I thought you were smarter than that.” Azure hissed, not even attempting to sound tempting to the man in front of her.

_I am not my powers, I can live without them._

The American, with short dark hair and dull gray eyes watched pretending calm, but she could see the hint of wariness on his eyes. And could see one of the guards having moved closer to the entrance.

She hid a smile.

_I will not be the one trying to run away, love._

“I am retired, Azure. Whatever it is you want, I cannot give it to you.”

“Now, is that a way to charm a lady, General? C'mon, promise me the world, anything money can buy. I'll smile and promise to consider letting you keep your cock attached to your body.”

The man launched himself over the small table, hand stretched until it had a hold on Azure's neck, pressing down and forcing her on her back on the floor.

Resting his knees on either side of her body, trapping her arms, he leaned in and, with alcohol-stale breath, whispered,

“I left that world behind. I will do nothing to have Hydra breathing down my neck again.”

A small, whistling sound called the General's attention, who raised his gaze just in time to see both his men fall to the ground, unconscious.

“And what will you do to stay alive, General?” Natasha asked, strolling into the small booth reserved for the man who was now probably regretting having such a secluded place in the bar, with a smirk on her face. Oh, Azure couldn't see that smirk, but she could _hear_ it.

“Shield does not kill.” He barked back, pressing harder on Anya's throat.

_He does know I'm a super-soldier, right?_

“I'm not here with Shield. Call it personal.”

He didn't resist, which scared Anya more than she would ever admit. It was not of Hydra to admit defeat. Consider the hollow space she _knew_ this man had in his molars o save the poisoned pill that would kill him instantly, would he still be a member of Hydra.

And as they walked the dark streets of Omsk, she pondered over the fact over and over again. Like a premonition, if she believed them to be true.

So this, this accepted resignation to their access to the last non-informatic data Hydra possessed that wasn't in its direct control...it didn't fit well with Azure at all.

_Or, I could wait like a sitting duck for Rumlow to find me. Which he will, because I'm apparently a lost set of keys that will somehow get him back home with the majestic assholes._

“Azure, Widow, do you read me?” Sam's voice asked through the comm.

“Yeah. If this is about the gene X thing...” Anya started, a sigh on her voice even though a smile curved up her lips.

“Or that flying toy of yours.” Natasha chipped in.

“Where are you?”

The two women shared a concerned stare, and the redhead unlock her gun's safety and pointed it at the man's head.

“Cover your ears.” She ordered, and Anya shot her a glance of 'Are you serious?', to which the spy answered with a shrug, “What? Is not like I can tell him to go away or something.”

“What do you mean, Sam? You had your...thing following us.”

“It lost your trail.”

“Maybe, and I mean this in the best way possible, you shouldn't have a robotic pet bird following us instead of moving your cute ass.” Anya whispered, thinking for a second about how those were some words she never expected to say.

“Change the route. Meet me at the extraction point.” Steve's voice demanded suddenly, startling both women, who once again shared a concerned glance.

“Steve?”

“Don't follow him. There's been movement on the outskirts of the city. Someone is following you.”

“Since when?”

“Since you entered the city.”

Silence.

“Well, fuck.”

__

2002, Siberia

“Rumlow requested your presence in the training room, Azure.”

“What for?” The blonde asked with barely a tilt of her head that indicated her attention, having spent nearly two hours in a phone conference with a Colonel who wanted her opinion on the creation of another Black Widow academy in Brazil. He wanted Latino girls as assassins because he believed they would 'fit in easier as irrelevant citizens'. Safe to say, she was exhausted, and done dealing with assholes.

But, because the universe would not give her a break, enter Rumlow.

_God, that man is a prick. A good soldier, a great strategist, but a colossal prick._

“Wanted to 'Welcome you home'.”

She clenched her jaw, and considered just outright telling them about how her compliance was all a lie just so she would not have to see his face.

“Inform him I will be there in five minutes.”

“Alright. Logging you out, Azure.”

__

_2014, Omsk, Russia._

“Who is following us?” Natasha asked the Captain through the comm, but Azure answered for him.

“Rumlow. Brock Rumlow.”

“Rumlow is dead.” Sam shot back, a rustling sound behind that of his voice, probably because he was driving or running back to them or the Captain.

“He is not.” The blonde answered, avoiding Natasha's stare, which was digging holes into her skull by now.

“How do you know?” He former student asked, each word pointed and almost forced to come out through her clenched jaw.

She shrugged, and said, “I may have been hiding my track when I arrived in the compound. He may have been following me since the Asse-since James went missing.”

“Well, I can't say I'll get bored around you, babe.” Sam whispered, awe and a slight resentment in his tone.

One, two, three seconds of silence.

“What!?” Natasha bellowed, a foot behind the General's knee sending him to the ground, gun now aimed at Azure.

“This is probably not the time, Natali-”

“To hell with that! To hell with time, with what you think and to fucking hell with you! You settled in my home, you made me work with you again, and you set everyone in danger without telling anyone about a fucking maniac following you!?”

“Natalia...”

The redhead adjusted her grip on the gun,

“Don't you dare tell me some bullshit about how it was safer because I swear to God, I will blow your head off. How _could you_?”

“I made sure enough people were aware of Rumlow, Natalia.”

Natasha blinked, slowly, once. Deliberately slow, she asked, “Who?”

Steve answered for her, “Me, Nat.”

And the first shot rang out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii, what did you think? I know not much happens here, so I will try to finish the next chapter, which will make me crawl into a hole and wait for your feedback, and upload it soon. Very soon. *insert evil guy hands gif here*  
> Aaanyways, I love you all! I hope you enjoyed!  
> Love, Luce.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii, I want to say that I am deeply sorry for not fulfilling what I said on comments about chapter 20 being up by Friday. Life is kind of chaotic right now with finals, and finding an apartment (yay me!) and everything so the chapts after this one, till around July 10th, will be slooow to come. Sorry.  
> Again, like I said, I'm sorry and I want to make it up to you guys, and I also don't want to give up writing (it's like a muscle, hehe) but I refuse to mess this fic up with poorly-planned, on-the-clock-written chapters. So, hit me up on Tumblr @I-cant-believe-its-not-a-writer and request something! Or through here if you prefer. I write reader inserts or OC inserts for MCU characters or ships in the MCU, (sry, but I don't ship WinterWidow or Stucky, so I always kind of make them platonic without meaning to, soo...), PotO and anything Bioware.  
> Anyways, hope you enjoy.  
> Love, Luce.

  _2014, Omsk, Russia_

“Natasha!” Steve screamed through the comm., but the bullet was already deep within the wall behind Anya by then.

Pain blossomed in Anya's cheek, and she could feel the searing burn of the bullet that had grazed her cheekbone.

_Shit, I need to get shot more often. This hurts like hell._

“I'm fine, Captain.” Azure hissed, but a primal part of her kicked and raged for a chance to thread the redhead to pieces.

Natasha narrowed her big eyes, mouth twisted in a frown, and leaned closer, “I missed because I owe you, and because I trusted you once. Put my family in danger again and I _will_ kill you.”

Anya blinked, and for the first time her initial reaction was not to taunt the spy before her, or return the threat in kind. This time, all she could do, and only because her pride forced her to, was hold her tongue to prevent herself from whispering she was sorry.

She had always ignored it, and had always tried to pretend it was not true, but Elena was right: they were all defined by something. In Anya's case, and Natasha's, it was their family. Anya was 22 when she joined _Hydra_ and became a worldwide-wanted traitor for a chance at saving her brother. Anya was biologically around 26 when she gave up the man she loved to protect her little girls, her sisters. Anya was 27 when she left Hydra holding up her middle finger when they asked her to do the impossible. She had done, and would do, whatever it took to keep her family safe and away from harm, but would disregard anyone who attempted to do the same. She had led Rumlow to the compound, without being sure that they could actually keep him at bay, because if he caught up with her she would lose her chance at finding James. Had anyone done the same to her, and their heart would still be inside their chest. In fact, she knows if anyone else had done the same to Natasha, they wouldn't be up for a drink either.

Hell, she even berated herself for going to Elena for help, fearing that she may have...

“Oh, shit,” Anya spat, icy-blue eyes scanning the buildings around them. Sharing a glance with Natalia, she whispered, “Elena.”

The redhead's eyes widened for a second, but after a short intake of air Natasha had her hand over her ear, her free fingers locking the safety of the pistol in her hand and saving it in the holder mid-thigh again.

“Wilson, do you copy?” She barked, raspy voice cold, “We are over Andrianova, right after the stadium. Come pick him up.”

_C'mon. Lies, darling._

_Fear may not be a lie, but calm is._

Azure took a step ahead, and took Natasha's bag from under her former student's arm, opening it and finding one of the last vials of poison. Before applying the small syringe on the General's neck, though, she inched closer and faced the all-too-calmed man.

“You set this up, didn't you?”

He span near her feet, “You are a traitor and a whore. A dangerous one, yes, but a whore nonetheless.”

One deep breath.

Azure slowly showed the man her syringe, and promptly let it fall to the floor before breaking the vial with her thin heel. She smiled.

“You can't kill him, Anya.” Steve whispered, probably in a private channel, having heard the asshole's voice.

_I knew I was going to regret this._

But still, she nodded once and stood up.

“I wont, Steve,” She promised, a warmth in her tone that she had not called for. When the General snarled at her, she smiled again, in that cold and primal smile of hers, “But you didn't say a thing about hurting him, right? Hurting him real bad?”

At her fake childish tone, Steve huffed a resigned laugh and sighed, “No, I didn't.”

The General's skull hit the wall behind him with a sickening crunch, but Azure made sure he was still alive and breathing when he fell down.

“We will not need the poison, after all.”

A smile threatened to curve Natasha's lips upwards, but the girl repressed it. They jogged back to the bar, where they once again stood in front of the bike.

Natasha took a step ahead, and with a feral glint in her eyes, she offered Azure the helmet, “Let's go protect our annoying girl, _da_?”

__

The house was submerged in complete darkness when they arrived. No signs of struggle, but Rumlow was very much able of destroying a life with as much as a whimper.

Silence surrounded the small suburban house, and Azure inwardly cursed Elena's foolishness and her insistence on pretending to be normal when she was clearly not.

“Now tell me, sweet girl. How did you find Azure?” She could hear Rumlow ask, raspy voice telling her of a vicious smile on his face. She heard the characteristic sound of someone spitting, and Brock's curse told her of what Elena had done.

“I did not find her, you shit-pissed-fuck. And even if I did, I would tell you shit.”

“You are smarter than you look, little bird, and I plan on making you sing.”

The forced sound of heels clicking on the wooden floor interrupted whatever Elena was going to say in response to his threat.

Azure walked into the trashed living room, Natasha on her back, and was surprised to notice no other men were in the house. Only Rumlow.

_He is either too brave or too stupid._

_Hell, maybe they are both the same._

“I told you once I would see you bleed out at my feet, did I not, Brock?” Azure hissed, eyes almost shining in the darkness that surrounded them, “One would think that after I almost ripped your throat off, you would heed my warnings.”

The man on the mask turned to her, breathed a husky laugh, his bulky figure moving past the girl in the chair and to a nearby table.

He picked up a folder.

“And I told you I would see you bare of lies before that happened, right, _Ann_?”

Anya clenched her jaw, eyes narrowing. Only slightly, but enough for Rumlow to see it and stand slightly taller in his place.

_You still fear me, pretty boy._

She lounged at him, sure that she would not need nor the serum in her veins or the knife still in her back to kill this man.

But he pulled out a gun, pointing it directly at Elena's head, tsk-ing his tongue.

Even before her body realized it was not faster than a bullet, Natasha's hand was firmly grasping her dress, keeping her locked in place.

She would have sworn she could hear Rumlow's pleased smiled when he opened the folder in his free hand and mused,

“You know, Ann, Hydra has had to learn from its mistakes. They now know that if they want to track down a ghost, the first thing they have to do is look for its ties on the ground, you see?”

“You wouldn't be pulling this if you believed I knew anything at all.” She stated, chin lifting and smug smile threatening to break free when she saw the man stop in his speech with a confused glint in his eye.

“Why would that be?”

_Thank you so much for grasping the bait, dear._

“Because you are one pathetic fuck who would shit himself, were he to find out the Soldat knew he still breathed.”

Azure realized too late that maybe taunting him was not the best course of action.

He stalked towards her, aim on Elena forgotten for a second as he got near her and hissed in her face,

“Listen here. I have the only record of the Asset's sightings after DC. You play nice or I burn this to ashes.”

“I'm not stupid enough to believe Hydra would trust the Soldat to one frail folder, Brock.”

He chuckled and pointed at Natasha, “After your little witch over there put everything out there for the world to see, yes they do.”

Anya eyed the folder for a second. Everything she -they, counting Steve- had been looking for, if Rumlow was saying the truth, was right in front of her, a reach of her arm away.

I what he said was true, they had the one lead that would direct them to James. But that also meant that if what he said was true, he could ask anything out of either of them and it was unlikely he would get a negative answer.

“What do you want, Rumlow?”

He let out a slightly manic giggle, “At last! I knew you could be a good whore if you wanted to, _Ann.”_

“ _What. Do. You. Want.”_

But he shook his head, taking a few steps back.

“Oh, no. This isn't about what I want. This is about what _you_ want.”

“What?”

“Remember Belarus, _doll_? Where you became the mother hen of all those treacherous bitches, like the one right next to you?” He asked. Anya felt Natalia tense beside her, and she would have done the same, were she able to move at all. “He kept demanding to see you, ya' know? Even after they fried his little brain out, he kept whining about why you weren't there.”

She bared her teeth, scaring even herself at the primal display. Forcing Natalia to let go of her, she walked over to Rumlow and hissed,

“Give me one reason not to finish what I started ten years ago.”

__

_2002, Siberia._

Azure walked the cold halls of the facility, sincerely hoping Rumlow wasn't planning anything stupid. He could be one cocky little bastard sometimes.

She heard the grunts and the characteristic sounds of a fight was she neared the room, and groaned internally. Only Rumlow got off watching people spar with each other, and then inviting her in to lay men twice her size on the ground and laugh about it. There were at least three agents with their backs towards her, and at least another two in the center of the odd circle the had made to watch the fight, cornering the men in the center between themselves and a corner of the room.

Rumlow had his back to her too, but he was a little farther away from the others, nursing a recently bruised jaw in his hand.

_Oh, so they got you back. Whoever the kid sparring is, I like them._

She stayed silent, but she knew Brock was aware of her presence in the room, having thrown her a sideways glance before returning his attention to the fight that probably he could not see much off, considering the agents surrounding it. But, if he wanted to play, she would play. Azure stayed silent and pretended, too, to be interested in the match.

Only, it did not seem much like a match, she noticed, when one of the bystanders crouched on the ground and, she presumed, forced one of the fighter's legs down. Or when the other two joined, and laughed like children while they hit the man on the ground.

She narrowed her eyes, and studied Rumlow and the sadistic glee on his face, but said nothing. She had been, after all, missing for over two years. Things are bound to change, right?

...And then she heard a grunt.

A frighteningly familiar grunt.

Bile rose in her throat, and she could hear every time the agent's fists met skin, every time a breath was knocked out of the man on the floor. She could see every move as if it were on slow motion, she could see, unlike before, the glint of light reflecting on metal. She could feel and see everything, and she thought she was going insane.

Trapped inside your own head. You can't talk. Hydra. Hydra will know. Them. Pierce. The girls. They will take them. You can't show. Them. If you don't lie, they destroy. They will, they threate-them. They will.

_Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie._

_James_.

“R-Rumlow.” She barked hoarsely. She watched as the agents slowly stopped they onslaught, standing up one by one.

Rumlow did not even turn towards her.

He smirked, and barked a command in English.

_Ubiystvo. Ubey yego. Zastav'te yego umolyat'. Posmotrite, kak on istekayet krov'yu.  
Posmotrite, kak oni umirayut._

James stood up, or whatever was left of him in that...that thing that did not even look at her, that did not even acknowledged her. She watched him stand with difficulty up to full height, shirt splattered with blood, one side torn open revealing even more scars than the ones she had traced, hair plastered to the back of his head, pants hanging low on his hips and...she closed her eyes to see no more.

She heard Rumlow make some sort of soun, like a master calling a dog back to its leash, “Soldat, you know her?”

Cold, dead eyes set on her and for a second, for hopeful, tainted second, she saw the light of recognition in his eyes, the single syllable 'Ann' forming on dry lips. For a single second, and for a single, horrible and delightful second she saw the swollen side of his face as that of the American who refused to shut up and hide his cocky smile from Lohmer all those lifetimes ago.

But an agent's fist to the side of his ribs she assumed, by the wince on his bloodied face, was broken brought him back to the present. To the Asset.

“I asked you something.”

Grey eyes that once were the storm in the middle of the sea, set on Rumlow, now nothing but the stones tainted by debris that remained in the shore after the hurricane, “She is Azure.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...*sheepishly balances on the balls of her feet*. I'm sorry. Please cry with me, I felt horrible writing that scene.  
> Srsly, I...I don't know. I like it, is not that I don't like what I wrote but...oh, I don't like what happened in what I wrote. Does that make sense?  
> Also, translations:  
> Ubiystvo. Ubey yego. Zastav'te yego umolyat'. Posmotrite, kak on istekayet krov'yu. Posmotrite, kak oni umirayut. (Kill. Kill him. Make him beg. See him bleed. See them die.)  
> Anyways, so...next chapter will take a while longer. Finals. Like I said, low on sleep and high on anxiety so...please bear with me.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Priorities? College? What is that? Can I eat it?"  
> Here's another chapter ☺  
> Hope you enjoy, would love hearing about you!  
> Love, Luce

_2002, Siberia_

She could almost see the unopened envelope that she had kept since a rainy day on Brooklyn where a girl with James' eyes smiled at her like she could be human crumbling before her eyes. She could see the back of the letter, with two of her names on it, the only ones that made her _real_ , burning quickly as the fire extended through yellowed pages of a time long past.

_~~Ann~~. I mean, Doll._

But that was no more, was it?

Now she was Azure.

Only Azure.

And don't they say you die twice? Once when you take your last breath, and another time when someone utters your name for the last time.

Blessed are those who do not breathe to see the day they are forgotten.

Rumlow, on his part, seemed not only pleased with the Asset's response, but blatantly oblivious to the storm in the icy eyes of the girl dressed in black.

“Well? She outranks you, dog. Salute.”

And the Asset fell to his knees before her. Dead eyes set ahead, not looking at her.

Azure did not breathe, turning her gaze slowly to the man with the bruised jaw. She blinked. Once, twice.

She remembers James telling her, one of the first few nights they had for themselves after he joined her and the girls, that he had learned to hate the cold.

“ _It's...in my bones by now.” He mused, metal finger twisting a lock of short platinum hair._

 _Anya smiled, eyes still closed and her forehead pressed against his neck. She could not believe he was willing to speak of cold when they were so unbelievably_ warm _._

_But, she guessed by the way his flesh hand had lingered on her neck and wrists this past weeks, that this was not about Russia's cruel weather._

“ _Don't you think it's better, in a way? People usually hate the cold, fear it, even. Knowing you can stand it...survive it, it means you have an advantage over them.”_

_He chuckled lowly, and though she could feel it reverberate through his chest, this time it filled her chest with the wrong kind of warmth. The kind that makes you want to run because you know melted steel soon turns into a blade._

“ _I wish you could stop thinking about war for a second, Ann.”_

“ _War_ is _us, love.”_

She let the cold flood her, she accepted the ice running through her veins and reveled in it.

For a second, she did not act.

For a second, a moment as short as a blink of an eye, like one last frightened heartbeat before the battle starts, she remained silent, and wondered that even her mind seemed to quiet.

It's just an instant, that one single moment where nothing exists beyond the ringing in your ears and the beating of your own heart in your chest, that single moment that is always there after or before massive destruction.

Problem is, she did not know if that single moment in where she lived was before or after the hurricane that ripped her of life.

And when she awoke, two agents were dead at her feet, and her hands were bloodied as her nails pierced Rumlow's neck. When she awoke, she was listening to Pierce barking an order, seeing the Soldat not answering, his eyes on hers, and feeling hands pulling her away from the body on the floor.

"Wipe him."

The thing they don't say about the ice, though, is that you may look like a diamond, but you easily shatter like glass.

__

_2014, Omsk, Russia_

Rumlow laughed again, and took another step closer to Elena.

“I'm being a good soldier, Azure, isn't that what you like?” He asked, and she grit her teeth, biting out her initial question once again,

“Give me a reason not to show you your own beating heart, Rumlow.”

“I'm being reasonable here, Azure. I'm giving you the choice, you see? Your girls, or the Asset.”

Natalia interrupted him with a scoff, and a movement Azure was sure was overlooked by Rumlow, as the redhead stood slightly in front of Azure.

“We're not 'her girls',” She said, “She left us for dead. Or worse.”

Natal- no, not Natalia, nor Natasha, Anya noted. Black Widow would not even look at her, years of pain forced to suffocate and love forced to ignore shinning brightly on her green eyes.

Eyes that were not on her, but the man in front of them.

For the first time she understood who the redhead was, after all those years. Who she had become, afterwards.

She was a woman who would die before seeing herself fail, but would not hesitate to let tears pool on her eyes and her facade crumble if it meant a chance at protecting the people she loved. She was, above everything, _herself_. Not a Black Widow from the KGB, not Natalia from the Red Room, not Nat from the Avengers, not a woman from a world of men. She simply was, and only after running most of the track, would she turn around and check if the rest of the world followed.

__

_2002, Belarus, Russia_

Azure thanked years of training as she fell through the window and landed in the completely dark room. Narrowing her eyes, and not sure if it was the serum in her veins or having had to sneak through more places that presidents have visited in their lifetimes, she eyed the red hair over the pillow, and walked in silence towards the girl that was once her sister.

“Natalia.”

Rustling, and...metal moving?

The moonlight shone over a single handcuff that was keeping the girl to her bed, and Azure forced her jaw to clench before she screamed so loud the soldiers after hercaught up.

“Azure?”

“No. Madame. I'm making rounds, seeing what you dream of. Of course it's me, Nat.”

The girl scoffed, and raised her chin even though she was the one handcuffed to a bedpost.

“Well, excuse me, if someone disappears for nearly a year and I don't believe it when the _crawl into my room in the middle of the night!_ ” She hissed.

Azure's hand on her neck silenced her quickly enough.

“You listen to me. You will get out of here, but not if you don't learn to _lie._ You are nobody's, girl. Not the KGB's, not Hydra's, not Madame's. You don't even belong to yourself, you hear me?

She saw the quick glint of a flashlight seeking a prey for its haunter outside the bunker, and rushed to explain,

“You are whoever the world needs you to be. You will not remember who you were if you have to be someone else. You belong to whoever the need tells you to, and just as quickly you turn around. You will adapt, and you will _lie_ , because you will not survive if you don't.

Black Widow's big eyes stared back at hers, dazed, she did not know if in fear or concealed anger and betrayal.

She heard an order barked on accented Russian - _“_ _Not all of us can speak Russian, Materinoska”_ -, and unsheathed the vibranium-aloy knife from her thigh.

Slicing through the metal of the cuff with ease, she allowed herself one last smile before cold took hold of her.

“Do not escape, but don't let them believe they caged you either.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You would think I was done swooning over Natasha Romanov's character by now, but you would be WRONG!  
> Srsly tho, I'm hopefully done throwing roses at her feet. For now.  
> Some clarifications, though, in case questions arise:  
> *The last teeny tiny bit in this chap, that is the last scene to take place in Belarus (aka Red Room), is an explanation that I promised to someone who asked about how Natasha knew about Pierce and Barnes and Hydra and Shield and everything (those were a lot of 'and's) but did not say anything. In case it was not clear, Azure used Mental-Emotional maniulation on Natalia, changing not only the way she felt about her (there's a reason why Azure's powers don't exactly work on BW) but also the way she remembered her time in the Red Room. If it's still unclear, feel free to send a comment down below and I'll make sure to tell you, or, wait till another teeny tiny confrontation in the next chap that will further explain it. (Hopefully, hehe)  
> Aaanyways, I hope you liked it, and I will be updating by next Monday or so.  
> Stay strong, and clear, my darlings! (If you get this, I love you)  
> Love, Luce


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely readers, I have crossed the 'Finals Week' and I have survived! *crowd cheers* So far, so good, that college thing.  
> Anyways, wanted to thank all of you for your support and understanding, and wanted to make a smol clarification:  
> *Because this characters, like I said, do what they want in this fic, the one-on-one interaction between Nat and Azure will be delayed and take place next chapter.  
> Have some Winter Soldier angst while you wait.  
> Also, heard one song on borderline-anoying repeat while writing, and it is 'Control' by Hal-fucking amazing-sey. (is just Halsey, tho. But she IS amazing)

_2014, Omsk, Russia_  
  
Rumlow chuckled and moved his massive torso slightly closer to Elena. Anya would have sworn she heard Natasha growl beside her.  
  
“If she is not attached to Azure, then she is of no use, no is she?” He taunted, the gun barrel dangerously close to the girl's temple.  
  
The blonde took a step ahead.  
  
“You want me, don't you? Think I will help you take down the Asset, were you ever competent enough to find him?” She asked, and deployed her sweetest smile on him. He straightened his back, just a little, and her soul chanted a victory. She took another step, and continued, “Then Elena does not matter. Neither does Natalia. They will walk away, because you know I will finally kill you if they don't.  
  
She heard his intake of breath through the mask, readying himself to speak, but she rushed to interrupt him. She knew what he was going to say. After all, he was finally being what she had asked of him to be.  
  
_I'm not sure if I should kiss or kill Stark Jr. for making me realize I am a mutant._  
  
_But, I admit, it is handy to know the extent of my skills._  
  
“And if you think of my kind and generous offer, and try to attack me...” She paused, deliberately, and cocked her head to the side, a strand of platinum hair dangling close to her big cerulean eyes, “oh dear. You delude yourself thinking you could beat me, so let's go with that idea. Do you really want to? Will you be running after or from the Soldat after the news of you hurting Natalia or myself reach his ears?”  
  
_It's actually endearing that he believes me. I have been on the run from Hydra for over two years, and the Soldat has been for more than a few months, so it is pretty clear that he does not want to find me._  
  
_Or does not know I can be found._  
  
She swallowed hard and forced the thoughts out of her head.  
  
_Happy thoughts, Anya. Happy thoughts._  
  
Rumlow considered for a few seconds. Enough seconds of hesitance for Azure to realize there was a possibility of her plan failing.  
  
__  
  
_2004, Siberia_  
  
The blonde was tied to a chair, surrounded by soldiers and killers. But she smiled.  
  
A slow, cold smile spread across Azure's face.  
  
A man in a suit walked towards her, strawberry-blonde hair shining under the light of the decaying bulb. He bent by the waist and forced her to meet his eyes, his face right in front of hers.  
  
“I got you at the end, didn't I, girl?”  
  
She remained silent for a few seconds, but finally hissed, “You did not find me, _sir_. The Soldat did. You are still as much of a useless fuck as the day I met you.”  
  
She knew he was not. She knew she was face-to-face with one of the most frightening men on earth, and also one of the most capable agents SHIELD had known.  
  
But, she remembers the first thing she was taught.  
  
So she lied.  
  
He decided to ignore her, and motioned to one of the agents in lab coats to turn on the machine at her left. They start the routine check on the equipment calmly, as if they were not readying themselves to take away someone's humanity. But, she remained quiet, and tried not to flinch when the 'zap' of electricity echoed through the room.  
  
Pierce turned towards her again, and smiled. Just slightly, not even more than a curve of the corners of his lips. But it's enough to scare her.  
  
She welcomed it, though. The fear.  
  
It was probably the last time she would get to care enough to feel it.  
  
“Light up the machine, Pierce. C'mon. Fry my brain.” She taunted, fake bravado on place, not caring that her voice wavered. He did not answer, so she rattled the chains around her ankles and wrists and growled, “I dare you, you fucking son of a bitch. Do it.”  
  
Something in the man's eyes changed, and as if possessed by blind fury, he stalked towards her with his hand on a fist, ready to strike.  
  
But he stopped.  
  
And Anya's smile widened when the sound of metal plates readjusting brought everyone in the room to a halt.

 _You and I both know why you_ wont _turn the blender on my brain, my darling coward._  
  
Suddenly every set of eyes in the room was set on the Asset. But he did not move, did not react. His stormy gray eyes were set right ahead, directly on their leader.  
  
She took a moment -maybe her last- to study him.  
  
It had been almost two years on the run, with the Soldat and the rest of Hydra at her heels, but she had never taken the chance to look at him. He was different than before, that goes unsaid, but there was also this...silent rage, this twisted sense of correctness that she was scared of.  
  
Back before the girls, he would keep this rage inside him, yes, but...directed at the people holding his leash, not the ones beyond the tether's reach. Anya looked at his dead eyes, taking in his disheveled hair and the way it almost hid his inexpressive face, and wondered, not for the first time, what was Hydra's true reach within James' mind.  
  
Because she remembered the Russian words they made her sneak into conversations, the way the almost used her as a carrot at the end of the stick. She remembered the firm: ' _She is your responsibility, Soldat. You fail in your mission, you fail to protect her_.'  
  
She remembered the smirking man in a cell in Austria, and how he took a beating without saying a word even though he could have saved himself, had he not chosen to protect a fellow prisoner.  
  
She remembered the last words she heard him say, when he was still James and she had caught a glimpse of being just Anya.  
  
_Doll,_ c'mon _, I know you're there. Come with us, I...I'll keep you safe, 'promise._  
  
She was cut out of her reverie when Pierce straightened his back and motioned to the man in coats again.  
  
“Prep him, and wipe it out.”  
  
“What...?” She gasped, eyes frantically jumping between the Director and the man she once had dared to dream a future with.  
  
The agents pushed to Soldat roughly to the chair in front of the machine, prodding his back with their guns like he was some...animal to be treated with caution and disregard.  
  
“Send her to cryo. The Asset has a mission tomorrow. I don't want...inconveniences”  
  
She fought them. Not for herself, though she bit, kicked and screamed as the agents attempted to carry her; but for him.  
  
For the man now sitting right across her but so far, with doctors preparing his body to withstand the loss of his mind, that still threw a small, sad smile her way.

__  
  
_2014, Omsk, Russia_  
  
With a growl, Rumlow pulled off the mask over his face, revealing severely burned skin -although healing quite fast- and brown eyes filled with fury.  
  
A warning shot was fired, over Anya's shoulder, as the man's face twisted in anger and exasperation.

Anya's eyes went to Elena, trying to give away some sense of calm to the girl that had just flinched and let out a gasp as the bullet was fired, though it was embedded in the wall behind her former teacher now.  
  
“Don't try to play me, little witch. I know your tricks, don't forget that," Rumlow eyed Elena where she was still sitting, tied to the chair. With a smile on his marred face, he whispered, "She is soft still, right?"  
  
He chuckled, almost to himself, making Natasha and Anya take a step ahead.  
  
" _Rumlow_..." The redhead warned, but the man ignored her.  
  
"She hasn't felt the heat yet, has she?" He neared the gun to Elena's temple again, and though the girl in now messy curls pretended not to be afraid, Anya could see the tears overflowing her eyes. Rumlow stole a glance to the blonde, and smiled again, with that vicious smile she had seen him wear that day when he called her to give her a 'welcome present'. It scared her more than it should. "Let's burn her, shall we?"

He fired his gun again, forcing a scream out of Elena and two loud threats in Russian.

Another bullet on the wall.

Only this time he neared the gun to the girl's face again, and with the barrel still hot, placed the blazing metal on Elena's dark skin.

When her student screamed again, this time in pain instead of fear, Azure leaped at Rumlow without a second thought.

A hard jab under his ribs, destabilizing him, and grabbing his wrist and twisting it the right way, she disarmed him and made him no longer a threat.

She did not expect the hard blow of a metal gauntlet on her face, though.

Anya fell to the floor, and though Natasha was already positioned in front of her with a knife in her hand, giving her a chance to get up and hit back, Anya could not help but watch Rumlow as a piece of armor frighteningly similar to that of Iron Man crawled over his arm, reaching his elbow and making his hand a weapon dangerous enough to knock over a Supersoldier.

_Natalia Alianovna Romanoff, back down or I'll kill you myself._

When Rumlow lounged for Anya, though, the redhead stood her ground. Landing three solid hits on the man's midriff, Natasha granted herself a chance at attacking him with the knife. Before Black Widow had a chance, Brock grabbed her by the neck before she had a chance to move again. Her arm swung anyways and landed a deep cut on the man's cheek.

But he smiled, again.

"Aw, you'll just make me more handsome, sugar."

Natasha smirked back, and in a move Anya swears she doesn't know how the redhead mastered lifted herself, twisting her legs around Rumlow's arm and managing to destabilize him enough to wrap her legs around his neck.

 _I swear to God, she is really_ part _spider._

Anya stood up, unsheathing the knife on her thigh and attacked Rumlow, weakly sending her swings, but also dangerously enough to divert his attention from Natasha. She was too distracted trying to protect the girls to avoid a clear pattern on her attacks, and did not notice in time his armored hand stopping her movement. Crushing her wrist in his hand, Rumlow dragged her with him as he collided with the wall, forcing Natasha to let go of his neck as her back connected with the wall with a sickening crunch.

Anya fell against Rumlow's armored chest, and he wasted no time lifting her off her feet by her blonde hair.

"You've grown soft, Azure."

She spat his face, concerned when she saw blood, and hissed back, "Wasn't it ' _Ann_ ', you whining fuck?" She smirked, lifting her knee and hitting him with enough strength to send his head back with the force, "I will die before you get a chance at thinking about James again."

He threw her to the floor again, and Anya groaned in pain, trying to reach the vibranium-alloy knife at her back, but being interrupted by Rumlow's robotic hand closing around her throat.

She could see Natasha untying Elena from her chair and helping her up from the corner of her eye, so she kept her eyes on Rumlow, and tried to listen to his words despite the ringing in her ears.

_Damn, he still throws a damn left._

"I don't see your chances being so good at the moment, Azure," He growled, his scarred face, now etched with his own blood hovering over hers as his hold on her throat tightened. "'Sides, you are not the strongest one in the room no more, babe."

She forced a weak, mocking laugh out of her.

"You know, they say steroids shrink your balls. Though, not much of an issue for you, right? From bad to worse, you t..."

_Okay, I cannot breathe._

_Natalia, where the fuck are you? Drinking tea with Elena's fucking cat?_

His hand readjusted over her neck, and her hand that was not still trying to reach the knife on her lower back clawed desperately at the shining metal.

Rumlow brought his face closer to hers, "You are not Hydra's only dirty secret."

She got the knife, and twisted her waist to pierce Rumlow's vest and skin as the front door fell open with a loud noise.

The man above her smiled, despite the blood now pouring from his abdomen, looking pleased and slightly eager, as a deep, gravelly voice bellowed, " _Rumlow_!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohh, I can't wait to know what happens! Oh wait...I DO KNOW! Muahahaha...  
> Srsly though, I don't know if I'm good at it, but daaamn I enjoy writing angst.  
> Have you seen that Spongebob meme about writing hurt/comfort, with the lid thing? Yeah, that's me.  
> I have a love-hate relationship with writing mushy feelings.  
> Aaanyways, hope you enjoyed, and please tell me what you think so far.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know when you ignore stress so much you don't feel it? And then the reason for stress is over and apparently you actually were so stressed you have a smol breakdown? Yeah...this was a great couple of weeks.  
> Anyways, here it's another chapter, and I'm posting the next in a few hours, or minutes. (Depends if I ended ch 23 and posted it to then continue writing or just wrote the whole thing in a row.  
> Love, Luce.

_2014, Omsk, Russia_

Brock was lifted off her before Anya had a chance to react, the burnt man's manic laughter chasing the space around them from where he now rested on the floor, near a wall.

Steve stood in front of Anya, shield back in his hand and baby blue eyes filled with the controlled sort of anger one holds when forced one too many times to swallow it down. The Russian took greedy breaths, eyes on the ceiling as darks spots flew over her plane of vision.

“The gi-Natasha and Elena?” She gasped.

“Outside. Sam is with them.” He answered, turning around and offering her a hand to get up.

Anya placed her hands under herself and lifted her body off the floor, hiding a wince when she put weight on her bad wrist. She smiled at him in thanks, though, and when he returned one in kind, she quickly raised an eyebrow and turned her smile mischevious,

“What took you so long? Were you getting coffee or...?”

Steve did not answer with a soft jab back though, and turned his clean-shaven face to the man still on the floor, with blood pouring out of the wound on his stomach.

_Well, at least he will not try to fist-fight Captain fucking America._

“His men were outside. Waiting to drop an ambush.”

Rumlow's face still held the smile, but it seemed to be twisted in a sneer when his brown eyes met the Captain's.

“You drove it away, you soft-hearted fool.”

“Drove what away?” Steve asked, a step closer to the man on the floor.

Cold, the wrong kind of it, tickled Anya's fingertips and traveled like snakes over her arms, until it settled on her chest, stealing away her breath.

Her frail voice interrupted them, “James.”

_Locking the door behind her and dialing the room's phone to talk to the kitchen's and ask for...something._

“ _Probably something that isn't pasta. God, I must look like an imbecile, only eating pasta because it's the only food I know how to ask for.” She muttered out loud, “Talking to ourselves, are we, Anya? Well, yes. Good, just checking.”_

_She rolled her eyes at herself, tiptoeing off her shoes and turning on her computer._

_Untraceable. A 'gift' from the US Department of Defense._

_She checked her searches for a lead on James as she waited for someone to pick up on the other side._

“ _Ciao?”_

“ _Uhm...hi.” She started, wincing at her own stupidity. “There's this lovely woman who speaks English...Suzzana, I think?”_

“ _Oh, Miss Pressley! It's me!” The woman answered, thick accent and too much excitement for so late at night. “Did you need something?”_

“ _Uhm...yes, thank you. One risotto, please. And I told you to call me Brianna.”_

Good job remembering something not made of eggs.

Also, good job remembering your 18th fake name this year

“ _Of course, Miss Pressley.” Suzzana hid a laugh, and said in a conspirational whisper, “Will it be for one, Miss?”_

If she's trying to come onto me...it will oddly enough be the highlight of my day.

“ _Ehm...yes?”_

“ _Very well. I won't say anything this time, but you need to make a 24-hour...avviso for visitors, Miss.” The other woman added a whispered 'wink' at the end of her sentence._

_Anya's eyes swept over the room, looking for something out of place. Hopefully not a bomb._

“ _Visitors?” She asked, Glock on hand as she searched the bathroom and closet._

_Suzzana laughed, “I will not see if you don't want me to, Miss.”_

“ _N-No, please. I...I have to know. Who...what happened?”_

“ _Well, this man came here while you were at the market, like you do everyday, and told me you left something back and needed to get it.”_

He knows my schedule, I go to that market every day, at the same fucking time. God, I'm a moron.

“ _D-Did you see him?”_

_Anya took a deep breath once she checked the room was empty, and cleared her thoughts. It could be one of Hydra's loose maniacs looking for a good way to go, or...or..._

_Rumlow was dead. There was no way he was after her._

_And there was no way in hell he had the advantage, that he was one step ahead of her._

“ _I'm sorry,_ tatina _. Is everything good?”_

“ _I...I may have to leave. I want to know who...how did that man look like.”_

“ _Oh. I did not see much...he had dark hair, and was quite big, very tall.”_

Oh, God.

It had never been Rumlow after her, had it? Not from so close, at least.

She understands now, how she could never see his footsteps. They were right over her own.

“I thought you were smarter, Azure,” Rumlow rasped, and the blonde tensed when the sound of guns clicking out of their safeties was heard behind her. At least seven of Rumlow's men were at her back, guns aimed at her and the Captain. “You drove lover-boy away with your shenanigans with Shield, kid,” He raised the now blood-stained folder in the air, “And here's the direction he went in.”

“Hope you have a plan, Cap, 'cause I'm counting sharpshooters, and we are sitting ducks here.” Sam's voice said through the comm, as the Captain and Azure exchanged glances.

The soldier turned to Rumlow, “You want us to let you leave.”

“'Let him' would be overreaching a bit there, Captain. Not that I don't trust your shield-throwing abilities, but...don't think we can punch our way out of this one.” Azure lied easily, thorwing a side-way glance at the man leaning on the wall, but Rumlow merely chuckled in response.

“You and I both know you _can_ and _want_ to fight your way out, Ann,” He taunted, “But I'm a smart man, you see?”

“Really?” Steve spat, his snark prompting a smile on the woman next to him.

Rumlow ignored him, and continued, “I know when my plan fails, but after your boy right here threw a building over me, I never leave home without a second one.”

He signaled his men behind them, and they lowered their weapons. Hissing as he took Azure's knife out from his abdomen, Brock threw the folder to the Captain and the knife to its rightful owner with a hidden wince of pain.

“It's a code,” Steve whispered, blue eyes flying over the strange symbols on the paper. He lifted his gaze to Rumlow, jaw set, “We can crack it.”

“I know. But do you have the time, Captain? And do you want more people involved in this?” He said, smile once again taking over his scarred features, “You let me go, and the crack to the code is delivered as soon as I hop on a plane away from this cold hell.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Because he needs us to find the Soldat. He knows he will not find him on his own.” Anya interrupted, sheathing the knife on her garter-belt.

Everything in her, in who she was, in who she was forced to be told her to take the deal without a second glance, to extend her hand at her enemy and accept the consequences. Everything told her to jump and don't look back.

Thing was, if she jumped, she was taking a whole lot of people with her now. Rumlow was not just her enemy, he had entered Elena's home and tried to kill Sam in the past. The deal did not only involve her, it was Natasha's family's safety on the line, and the Captain's credibility.

It was not only she who wanted James back, and he was not even hers, to begin with.

So Anya straightened her back, swallowed her pride and looked over to the Captain.

“Your call, Steve.”

__

They said their farewells to Elena in the cold top of a business tower, where the helicopter came to pick her up and take her on a 'paid vacation' to her parent's home in Berlin. Courtesy of Tony Stark, for giving assistance on Avengers' business.

Anya made a mental note to thank Anthony for everything he had done.

“You know you will be stalking me in no time, right?” The girl joked, smile still tremulous but eyes warm.

Natasha chuckled, “I already have cameras in front of your parents' house. Up your game, Elena.”

The former trainee scrunched her nose.

“You see, I can't tell if you are joking or not.” She muttered. Anya stepped in then, placing a hand on her former student's shoulder.

“Of course she is. Cameras are not reliable enough. We have agents on the perimeter.”

Dark eyes narrowed in her direction, but before the blonde could think of something to add, she had an armful of Elena, curly hair tickling her nose.

“You are not forgiven for putting my cat in danger, but...thanks were in order. For...everything.”

The Russian smiled, and slowly wrapped her arms around the still shaking girl.

“Say what you will, but I think Madame wants to come home with me. You know, having had a taste of life as an interesting person's cat.” Anya said, prompting Elena to shove her away with a playful glare.

With the same grace she would use to twist a neck and take a life, Natalia reached over and wrapped her arms around Elena for a quick hug.

“Stop talking about your cat and get going.”

She rolled her eyes, but complied, nodding to the pilot as she clamb into the helicopter.

Before the sound of its wings became too potent, they heard her salute with a, “Don't contact me, I'll contact you. Oh, I always wanted to say that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I don't usually proof-read my works, but I should've for this one, considering is around two am where I live. So, if someone leans on a wall 17 times on a row, just go with it.  
> Also, forgive Suzzana for not getting the phrasal verbs correctly, but that was a horrid part of my English-learning experience, and I wanted it here, hehe.  
> I love you all my dear readers (if any of you are still out there, after my absence, hehe), and I hope you had a lovely week and your fandom got good news from SDCC.  
> Also also, those of you who do not live in those magical countries where mystical events like ComicCon happens (like me, in my little mate-filled corner of South America), cry with me if you will.  
> Anyways, I'm done rambling.  
> Love, Luce.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, a few hours became a day. Also, what did you think of last chapter's revelations? Were they revelations at all? Hehe, anyways, hope you enjoy!  
> Love, Luce

_2014, Omsk, Russia_

Anya wrapped her -thankfully not broken- wrist on the car on their way to the hotel. Natasha was immersed in trying fruitlessly to read the symbols on the folder with the locations, and Sam drove the car in silence.

“You know, I'm getting worried. Before I joined your little gang of misfits, the oddest thing I fought had been a man in a prop helmet with a star-dotted shield, but now I fight half-robot maniac killers.” Anya said, forcing a smile on the stoic face of the man sitting next to her.

Steve sighed after a second, though, the smile dimming, “You will get used to it.”

“Yeah, I'll pass.” She muttered, twisting her arm so her teeth would reach the underside of the improvised bandage.

Steve clearing his throat brought her attention back to him. He extended a hand towards her, eyes bright in the darkness of the city flying past them.

“Uh, may I?”

She hesitated for a second, but the same pull, the same strange goodwill that seemed to surround him, like that first day when she uttered her real name for the first time in years compelled her to put her small wrist in his big hand, watching nimble fingers twist the bandage and secure it over the tender flesh.

Her eyes took their time cataloging his features, or what she could see of them in the darkened space. The Roman shape of his nose, his sharp and clean-shaven jaw, they all showed the man of the videos she was able to see from back in the day, with his almost pintoresque portrayal of a soldier. And yet his kind blue eyes, the slightly dark circles under them, the small, almost shy smile he threw her way when her wrist was done, they strived to show her the man beyond the three-colored outfit.

Just as Steve was about to let go of her hand, she placed her uninjured one to keep him in place.

With icy eyes searching his own, she whispered, “Thank you. I don't usually say that, so...”

“I should feel important?”

“More like grateful. Then we're even.”

Steve chuckled at her feeble attempt of humor, but his eyes were still clouded. Her hand, still resting over his, squeezed his artist fingers, bringing his attention back to her.

“Not the best person out there, mind you. But, you can talk to me...uh, are you okay?”

Natasha interrupted them, eyes lifting from the document on her hands to the entrance of the hotel.

“This is it. Park and let me get out of this damned dress.”

The blond next to Anya cleared his throat and rushed to open the door and get out of the car. She would have sworn his cheeks were dusted with pink.

“Sure,” Sam said, turning off the engine, “Any plan to explain why you look like you were mauled by a bear and Anya here looks like she fought a rhino bare-handed?”

The Russian stared at Sam with icy-blue eyes narrowed, “Your joke game is weak, Sam.”

He dismissed her with a hand gesture, smile on his tired features,

“It's like...something a.m here, and we're jet-lagged. Sue me.”

They followed Natasha as she practically stomped her way to the front desk, Russian spilling easily from her tongue as she demanded a room from the barely awake woman on the other side.

Sam tapped gently on Anya's bandaged wrist, and leaned closer,

“The car has a rearview mirror, sweet cheeks.” He stated, lifting his eyebrows slightly.

But something in his expression told Anya he was not about to make a joke, or tease her about it. No, he was rather staring at her like he may try to threaten her.

“Is this the part where you say they'll never find my body if I take advantage of him?”

He shook his head, “No, because you will most definitively hand me my sweet ass back to me if I even try. But I, uh, wanna make sure, you know? That you are not...seeing someone else when you look at him.”

Anya refused to let her gaze wander from his as she answered truthfully, “I see him. When...when he lets me.”

The teasing smile came back to the young Marine's face.

“Oh, will you tell me now that it has stopped you before?”

She saw Natasha walking towards them from the corner of her eye, and stood back.

“If you two are done gossiping, I have our room.”

“Room, as in...singular?”

“Yes. One room, four beds.”

__

The Captain and Falcon had left to sweep over Elena's house, and to check the perimeter in case Rumlow tried anything else. Anya and Natasha were left to nurse their wounds and, Azure guessed, left alone so they would work out whatever made Natasha so angry she snapped at Steve when he asked if she was okay.

So, Anya was really looking forward to that conversation.

The redhead mumbled something about taking the first shower, so Anya was left with the strangely written folder on her bandaged hand, and a horrible feeling of dread sitting on her stomach.

The door to the bathroom opened so hard it hit the wall, Natasha standing in loose pants and holding a towel to her hair on the other side of it.

“Elena said you came back for me, _why?”_

Azure blinked, once, and left the folder on the large Queen bed as she sat in the corner of it.

“Because I did. If I remember correctly, you were handcuffed to a bed and I had a Ghost at my heels.”

Her student stalked towards her, towel forgotten on the floor. When they were close enough, Anya could see the faint scars on Natalia's face, now younger than ever as she lacked the faint makeup she wore every day, wet strands of hair plastered to her heart-shaped face making her more of the girl with a rebellious streak they were never able to extinguish than the accomplished woman who told the government to kindly suck it.

Natalia's green eyes narrowed slightly, “That's the thing. You _remember.”_

The blonde leaned back, “You read Stark's file, didn't you?”

“You brainwashed me.” Natalia bit out, but Anya was quick to shake her head in denial.

“You...I did not know, back then. Hell, I'm not sure I know now. I told you what my mother told me when I was old enough to question why I could not play wrestling with the boys at my school. How that...affected you, was not considered.”

“I forgot names, I forgot faces! I watched Steve mourn for his friend for _years,_ and I had seen the man standing before me when I was seven years old, Azure! Fury almost got killed and we almost saw the world as we know it fall because I had stood in front of Pierce himself but my brain would not piece together that the Red Room and him had been one of the same!” Tears brimmed on Natalia's eyes, and something old, something almost dead broke inside of Anya's chest. “Don't tell me that the fact that you played with my head was not _considered_.”

Anya tried to see Natalia, and only Natalia standing in front of her, she truly did; but the innocent faces of all the twelve little girls that she had met and loved, twisted and heartless, plastered in a file with the red stamped of 'MIA' or 'Deceased' swam in front of her eyes.

Azure stood up slowly, gracefully, and stared at her former student with the impassive face of the only woman who got Hydra to bow down to her.

“That I 'played with your head' kept you alive and promised you a future where you can sit and complain about the reasons and the ways you survived while your sisters _, my girls,_ were lost and quickly forgotten.” She hissed, “So pretend that you don't feel empowered when soldiers turn on their own to escape you, pretend that you are not proud when the Director of the most important intelligence organization in the western world asks for your advice. Pretend that the power running through your veins is a lie, dear, but don't try and make me believe it.”

“So you regret nothing?”

_Oh, darling, if you only knew._

“I regret what happened, not what I did. You survived, Natalia. It should be enough.”

“I was the only one to survive, Azure. There's a reason for that,” Natalia whispered, the fight leaving her when Anya's voice softened, “And you don't seem to understand it. I trusted you, Anya,” She let out a huff that once it could have been laughter, raising tear-filled eyes to the ceiling, “ _Yobannoe dno_ , I'm stupid enough to _still_ trust you. I trust you and I have since I can remember. Or...since what I _believe_ to remember, shouldn't I say?”

Anya winced, but kept her head high as she answered, “I made sure you stayed alive.”

Her defense seemed to weaken, though, as Natalia's eyes faced her own, filled with hurt and anger and pain in equal parts.

“You made sure I survived. I would have been able to without your help. I did not need your help, I needed you to _be_ there.”

Anya sighed, “I couldn't.”

“Why!? You didn't come back! They died and I was alone and you were not there! Why!?”

“Because I had chosen you enough times!”

 __

_2010, Siberia_

They brought her out of the ice and dropped a dossier on her lap.

“Find her. Hydra wants her dead before Iron Man is stabilized as an asset for Shield.”

_Natalia Alianovna Romanoff. SHIELD ally, former Black Widow._

Azure lifted her eyes from the paper and faced whoever was the new flying monkey they sent her way.

“And if I refuse?”

“You won't.”

She laughed, but stood up nonetheless, ignoring the weakness on her muscles after being under for who knows how long.

“It's actually endearing you believe you can force me into anything.” She teased, but because she knew the stakes, she returned the file to the agent and nodded, “Prep a ship and an identity, I'm leaving for Moscow tomorrow at 0600.

She left the man standing there as she walked to the door, but before she turned and winked at the stunned agent.

“If they give me a team that isn't the Soldat, I'll make you personally responsible and make sure you figure out how your brain looks on the inside.”

__

Less than three weeks, and Azure had Natalia cornered in Moscow. She admits, having the kid kill Fjodorov wasn't her choice, but at least she had lured Black Widow out to play.

Hydra had granted Frampton, the kid's employer, a few insights on Shield's moves in exchange for cover and a way to divert the smoke of Black Widow's death to a ring of terrorists and not the apparently dead Nazi organization.

“She is my kill, not yours!” Sofia wailed, but Azure was quick to silence her with the edge of her knife teasing the girl's back, right over her lung.

“My mission, my kill. Run back to daddy before he finds out you snuck out again, girl,” She hissed, icy-blue eyes shining in anger, “You are careless and stupid, and got two of Shield's agents killed. If you do not want to be the next, I suggest you bid my warning.”

The kid nodded reluctantly and disappeared quickly into the night. Azure nodded to the three agents accompanying her -the unfortunate man who woke her up did taste his own blood after they forced a strike team upon her- and walked inside the bunker.

Black Widow stood inside, ready to meet the reckless mercenary. Upon seeing the slender figure dressed in black and the platinum blonde hair, though, her round eyes widened, and what had been once Azure's name was whispered quietly.

The former Red Orchestra ignored her, though, and muttered a half-hearted apology before kicking her chest and sending her plumetting into the dark and freezing waters behind her.

She watched in silence as Natalia sunk in the cold water, hand stretched before her as if to ask assistance from the woman she had once considered a sister.

One of the agents next to Azure warned her, bringing her attention back to the present, “Shield agents on their way. Coulson's among them.”

“Do you have a clear shot?” She barked.

“Affirmative.”

Anya clicked the safety off her gun.

“Good.”

The three agents fell to the floor like broken dolls, the sounds of various footsteps approaching as she holstered the smoking gun away.

_I quit._

She snuck out of the bunker, but remained nearby until Coulson walked away with a nearly-frozen, but alive, Natasha. At least the girl was safe.

_I'm sorry, Soldat. I won't be coming back this time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sofia and the whole ordeal belong to 'The Avengers Prelude: Black Widow Strikes', not to me. Hell, nothing belongs to me here, lmao.  
> Also, I told you names were important. Just in this chap, you can read the moment Anya changes her mind just by who clicks the safety of the gun off.  
> Anyways, would love to hear from you!  
> Love, Luce


	25. NOT A CHAPTER -still not abandoning this mess, tho-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a rant, an explanation, and an apology all wrapped in one. Get to the last paragraph if you only want to learn about the new updates coming soon, the end of this fic and hopefully the begining of the second one of the series.  
> If you wanna hear an angry latina rant and curse, go ahead and read the whole thing.  
> Thank you, and I hope you have a great day!  
> Love, Luce.

Hey, guys.

Kind of a long recess I took there, huh? Well, I'm sorry it took me so long to make my mind about all this.

I am against trigger warnings as the idea you may get offended by something I will say, so I'm not putting them, but I will curse, talk about politics (not US' tho, here down south we have bigger baddies, lol) and the reason I was away for a long time.

Hope you understand, and I'm sorry, I know this doesn't belong here, but in all my short years as a writer, I have never got such feedback and such amazing people that are willing to put up with me and actually like what I write!! So I believe you deserve an explanation, and the whole deal.

Honestly, it's been a few months since I've been driven away from Tumblr, because I'm tired of hate bred on skin colour, sexual orientation, gender, political beliefs, etc., and the whole idea of getting offended on someone's behalf. You have no idea how mad I get when I see a post about how Latinx must feel when they see taco stands or see kids dressed as Mariachis for Halloween -or even fucking Mario with a sombrero!- when Venezuelans are dying every fucking day under a regime that tried to bend the constitution itself, and a dictator in every sense of the word; when people disappear just like that for opposing the government in countries where we went through a Dictatorship (that took over most of the continent in the late 1900's) that supposedly ended thirty years ago; where a bunch of shit happens and no one gives a shit.

I grew up, thankfully, when the dictatorship was over in my beautiful little country, and was blissfully young when kids ate grass to survive during a great economic crisis. I did not live in the times I hear about, I just _learned_ about them, and it always nagged me that apparently all of Latin America went through a horrible time, was under a regime which still reverberates through time till this day, because I still see bodies been found on the news, I still hear about stolen children being raised in a family (un)directly responsible for the murder of their biological family; and still the world was silent to their pain. Why? Why the fuck would you turn your eyes away?

And sadly I finally know why.

Because I've been doing the same thing with a whole lot of shit. Because I called myself a feminist, and an advocate for equality, and yet when the news about Venezuela started to hit, I nodded and mumbled about how horrible it was and went to yell and whine about the wage gap and about how reverse racism doesn't exist. My pinterest and Tumblr were proof enough. This doesn't mean you shouldn't. Honestly, do whatever the fuck you want. I am proud of you if you think about stuff and are passionate about something, even if I don't agree. But yeah. So a while ago things in my little country started to tipple over pollitically speaking, having to see the first politician -in my short two-decades-long life- to publicly be acussed of corruption and eventually led to quit his job. I do not care if they were right or not, if there was corruption or an honest mistake. That's not the point, the point is that a whole bunch of articles I read about this issue talked about previous events in my country's history, and I was once again stuck with the question:

"Why were they silent? Why were they sitting still when my country, like so many others, was dying and being wounded in a way that is only now recovering? _Why did they let this happen?_ "

And yeah, I started to have a bit of a existential crisis. Because I was -maybe still am- doing the same thing to a whole lot of other issues. I complained about my university's students organization spending our resources in trying to keep a hospital from being privatized when the roof in our main building is literally falling on our heads, and yet my time was spent complaining about how Jennifer Lawrence earned less money for less hours of work than her coworker, because wage gap. I looked the other way, pretended the biggest issue our generation was facing was people ignoring other people's preferred pronouns, when people were dying because they wanted to be able to buy milk not too many miles away from me. This doesn't mean you shouldn't fight for what you believe in, this doesn't mean in any way that I mean to belittle other people's struggles. It just means that maybe we need to look back sometimes, that maybe we need to step out of the bubble we sit so comfortably in, with out incredible gift of fighting for what we believe is right, and turn our gaze to places like Venezuela, like Haiti, like uncountable other places like the Middle East, like Africa, and spend that resources we have in aiding them, or maybe just raising awareness.

And I was so angry and embarrassed when I started to realize. I was so goddamn angry, you have no idea.

I had become the very thing that made children like me wonder why Captain America didn't come to my country and punched our dictator in the face (jk, I didn't even know about CA then. Now the Teen Titans? Now we're talking). I had become one more of the big mass that ranted about things that look so _incredibly_ silly and narcissistic even to complain about when you stand in the ruins of the richest country in oil in the world, where the people will make the same line I made to watch Seb and Chad play a very violent game of tag, just to buy toilet paper.

So, as you may know now, I was angry, distressed, sad, disappointed, and all of that in a few months, and I decided that maybe I needed to vent a little, and offer an explanation. The apology part of this rant -which didn't explain my absence but talks about the future of this mess ;)- has been stored on my account for a long time, waiting to be put up.

So here it goes.

I'm deeply sorry about my absence, and I hope you are still around. I did not feel like writing, considering a bunch of things that have been going on with me, and a whole lot of shit I have been questioning, reading about, and losing sleep about. Doesn't matter. You and I, we're both here to hear about the updates, my friend. Well, I am two chapters down to finish this fic -I have taken up writing, a very torturous and slow writing- in these last few weeks and I'm almost done with the first...book? Can I call this a book? Huh...

Anyways, I will post probably by mid-October, late-October the remaining chapters and epilogue of this lovely mess, so check the subscribe box so you don't miss it.

Again, I'm sorry for the silence and the absence, and I promise the end will be worth your while -hopefully-. And a shoutout to each and every one of you, from the ones that started commenting and liking every chapter (I'm looking at you Storybird, zylum), the ones that made me scratch my head thinking about their questions (HellKat made me realize a plothole I was never going to explain, because I thought you could read my mind, lmao) and each of you who bothered with liking, commenting, or even reading this story. You have made me really happy, and I will never have enough breath to thank you for it.

Anyways, see you soon,

Love, Luce.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here ya go, all in one go!  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> Love, Luce

_2014, Omsk, Russia._

“Is that why you hate me?”

“What?”

“Why you hate me. It's because I'm the reason you always left each other.”

“I don't hate you, Natalia.” Anya whispered back, still not turning towards her.

“You do. You...I was your student, but you were young and we were...friends, I think. But then, when I told...when we...You hate me now.”

“If you think I'm petty enough to hate a woman I considered my sister for a man, even if that man is James, you don't know me at all,” She seethed, icy blue eyes shining when her head turned to face the other woman. “And again, I do not hate you.”

“You left us, you left us there, Anya.”

“I left a lot of people behind, Natalia. Leaving you girls behind...you had already gone through your graduation, I thought...I thought you would be free, you would run from that world.”

“The Red Room, the girls, Barnes, _you_ were the world I knew, Anya. I could not leave.” The spy argued, and took a seat on the floor, back against the wall, as her teacher had done after her words.

The other woman insisted, without being able to keep the venom from her voice, “And Hydra, 'Azure', and _James_ were mine.”

“If your anger is about what happened when he was my trainer, you have to know nothing hap...”

“It is not about you two.” She rasped back.

“There wasn't an 'us'. We wouldn't have.”

“But you should have!” Anya suddenly screamed, “Why did you ignore what you felt!? Why did you left him with me!?

The blonde stood up, pacing the room with her hand running through her hair. Taking deep breaths, the voice in her head that bellowed about remaining calm having long since been quieted, ever since the Soldat's name came into the conversation.

“You could've convinced him to go, you could've...taken him away from there.”

“And leave you behind? Anya, he wouldn't...”

“He wouldn't let me go because I did not let him! He should have followed you! He should have chosen _you_!” She cried out, but Natasha interrupted her before she continued,

“Barnes is not a child, Anya. He can make his own decisions, or...at least he did, uh, before.”

The other woman took a few calming breaths that did nothing to ease her beating heart, and closed her eyes at the torrent of images in her brain, that seemed to have been burned into her eyes.

“It does not matter now, Natalia. Just know that I don't hate you. I...hate who I am, at least when I'm standing in front of you.”

“Why?”

“You were brave enough to escape.”

“Uh...You did it too.”

“I ran and hid. I did not escape,” The other woman rectified. “You are an Avenger, Natalia, and you let the world know every secret about you for the sake of the world. I'm so _immensely proud_ of the woman you have become, and yet...I cannot help but feel ashamed when you are before me.”

“Because you left him.” She said, more a statement than a question, even though she awaited her response. Anya huffed, dragging her uninjured hand through her now messy hair.

“I left everyone. I left my brother alone when he went to war, hiding behind secrets and spies as if war were a child's game. I left my country when I joined Hydra, thinking I was only betraying myself. I left James countless times, because I always chose someone else, or simply decided not to choose him. I even left you, and...I promised I wouldn't, didn't I?”

The redhead frowned at her words, “What?”

“You probably don't remember, and before you open your mouth, no, it was not my fault. You were seven or eight. You had pouted your way into getting James to sneak in some nail polish for you, and when I found out and went to bitch to you about it, you somehow charmed _me_ into letting you paint my toes bright pink. The ugliest pink I have ever seen, seriously.

A smile curved Anya's lips up.

“One of the girls, Sienna if I'm not mistaken, started the idea of a silly promise about being bound to stay together because of the color of our nails.

The blonde chuckled, and rolled her eyes even though her voice sort of catched.

“A stupid thing, really. But...I do not easily give my word.”

Natalia sighed, and leaned her shoulder next to Anya's.

“We all break promises in the name of survival.” She whispered, prompting a chuckle out of the woman next to her.

“I really don't like it when you are calm and brooding and all that.”

“Fine. You owe me the chance to punch you in your frickishly small chin. Better?”

Anya laughed, “Better. Though, let's schedule it for when I don't have asshole-shaped finger marks on my neck.”

“Deal.”

__

Steve and Sam walked in to find both spies still on the floor, a blanket curled around each of their shoulders as they stared each other down, a few cards on each of their hands.

“What are you doing?” Sam questioned, smile already on place. They seemed calmer than ever, Natasha sporting an easy smile that they had not seen on her face before. Except, maybe, when she came back from her trips with Clint to the West of the country.

“ _I'm_ winning.” Natasha boasted, eyes still on the cards. The other woman scoffed,

“And _I'm_ letting her believe she is,” She said. After a second of hesitance, she looked up to Steve's eyes and whispered, “I'm winning the shield back, 'promise.”

__

Steve was taking a shower as Sam made a run for the nearby 24-hours café for some food, and Natasha kept carrying around the Captain's shield and Azure's favourite knife everywhere she went, much to the latter's dismay.

The bathroom door opened slowly, steam clouding Steve's figure as he walked out. With a towel around his waist.

Just a towel.

Anya's eyes narrowed at the Captain, trying not to ogle at his body. Though she should, right? To...check for injuries. Right.

Natasha sat next to her with a knowing smirk on her face.

“He doesn't know he's doing it,” She whispered, and at the blonde's stunned expression, she explained, “Making you want to climb him like a tree but also make sure the tree is warm and comfortable and had a good night's sleep? Yeah, he has no idea.

They watched as the Captain walked to his bag and retrieved some clothes, not even batting an eye at the ogling women.

The redhead continued, “Amazing, really. Would be a remarkably easy target for a spy, if you think about it.”

Anya groaned, “Sam already gave me the warning, Nat. Please skip it.”

“Okay. But you do know that, unlike Sam, I can and will kill you right?”

She chuckled in response, attention going back to Steve, who was now standing in the bathroom doorway, when he cleared his throat and spoke out.

“Tony called. Rumlow delivered in his part of the deal, and a crack to the code was sent a few minutes ago.”

“Great,” Anya smiled, “Thank you, Steve.”

He nodded, once, and walked into the bathroom once again, closing the door behind him.

“'Means we can make our way back by tomorrow morning, once everyone has had a good night's sleep.” The redhead said, leaning back on her elbows over the bed.

“Thank goodness. I want to take a shower and then a bath. And probably a shower afterwards.”

“You could have taken a shower a few minutes ago. A very interesting one.” Natasha wiggled her eyebrows.

That earned her a pillow to the face.

__

Sam took a bite out of the sandwich and pointed in Natasha's general direction with it.

“You are aware there are only three beds, right?”

Natasha's hands stilled on Anya's hair, where they were braiding it. A slow smile started to form on the blonde's lips, and she shared a silent promise of mischief with Steve, prompting a smile out of him.

He seemed more at ease, now that Rumlow had delivered and they were going to be able to read the file and get a general location of the Soldat. Although, he was still cautious, as if he waited for the next shoe to drop after he, in his mind, had failed his team, or probably something bigger than his team and himself, by accepting a deal from their enemy.

“I...am aware.” Natasha answered, dragging the words.

“Why didn't you ask for a room with four?” Sam teased, smiling through a mouthfull of food.

“I said there were four people. Maybe because you and Mrs. Don't-worry-Natalia-we-won't-need-backup here looked so cozy whispering to one another, she asumed you were sharing a bed.”

Anya interrupted with a smile, a malicious glint on her icy-blue eyes.

“Or maybe, _maybe,_ you were too busy impersonating a bull terrier with a stick up its ass to pay attention.”

That got her a hard tug on the hair by Natasha, but it was worth it.

“Nuh naher,” The redhead muttered, attention apparently back into trying to keep the shorter strands of Anya's hair in the braid she was attempting.

“We still have, my dear Russian kill-dolls, three beds for four people.” Sam interrupted. Anya shrugged her shoulders, and deliberately let her eyes wander over to Steve when she asked,

“We can always share, right?”

She had never seen someone blush so fast in her life. Or manage to stutter even though they weren't talking at all.

Sam was stuck flailing his arms and wailing 'Ooh' in the background, as the Captain rubbed the back of his neck and looked absolutely everywhere but at Anya.

“Uh...I...E-Ehm...”

“She's talking to me, champ.” Natasha soothed, though a smile could be heard on her voice.

Steve huffed a laugh, feeling Anya's eyes still on him, “Right. Uh, I'll go get the rest of the...”

His voice died out as his clear eyes focused on the smile of the blonde in front of him, and a nudge from Sam brought him back to the present.

“The overnight bags, Cap.”

“...What? Uh, right.”

As his toned back dissapeared through the door, Anya let out a soft, fond laugh as Natalia finished tying up her hair.

“You are evil, woman.” Sam hissed, standing up and getting rid of the crumbs on his clothes as he grabbed one of the extra towels and trotted to the bathroom.

“And I love it.”

 


	27. Chapter 27

2014, Omsk, Russia

“ _You could join the front. Hell, maybe they'll send you to a city near mine, Anushka.”_

“ _Join the war...and what? End up like mom? Or like Matvei?”_

“ _You don't choose to join the war, sister. It chooses you.”_

“ _Don't make me laugh, Alexei.”_

“ _I'm just trying to protect you. 'It has its eyes on you'. Mom used to say that, remember?”_

Anya blinked the sleep off her eyes, tugging forcefully at the blanket Natalia considered her own skin judging by how tight she was holding on to it.

With a huff, she scooted closer to the spy and closed her eyes again.

“ _War can wish to clutch me all it wants. I am fast enough to outrun it.”_

“ _And what then? Mom was running from it too. Who will have to remember their mother thorugh stories, Anya? Who will wake one day to see you are not there because of an old debt?”_

“ _It will not happen to me!”_

“ _This is like the river near Aunt Nera's house, remember? The more you struggle...”_

“ _...the rougher is the ride.”_

Anya blinked the sleep from her eyes, her sleep-addled mind taking some time to get in touch with what had happened in the last 70 plus years of her existence, and therefore taking away a small Alexei-piece of her that she didn't realize her dream had tried to bring back.

Taking a few breaths and relaxing into the matress, Anya took her time stretching her body. That's when she noticed how hers and Natasha's ankles were inertwined with one another, and it forced a smile out of her.

__

_2011, Washington DC_

Azure waited silently as the keys were dropped in the bowl by the entrance, and the expensive formal shoes were toed off.

“Nice to have you over, girl,” Pierce purred, eyes swiftly going over her knife embedded on the table before her, before moving up to battle against her own. He chuckled, a sly smile taking over wrinkled-sorrounded lips, “If I had known you would be coming over, I would have brought some friends. The Soldat surely misses you.”

“Charming,” She deadpanned, “Now, if you are done trying to play with my head, I am here to do bussiness.”

“Oh, are you now? And what would you want form me, girl? A chance at coming back home?”

“I belong nowhere, dear,” She stood up, taking her knife and walking over to the Director. She smiled slowly, “You, however, belong in the darkest and most hideous hole I can find.”

He chuckled, again, “Are you here to threaten me, girl?”

“I'm here to offer you one last chance. Continue sending your men after me, and you will be defeated,” This time, it was she who breathed a short laugh, “Or worse: discovered.”

His expression turned serious, “And let you roam at your liking? My sweet, you know way too much to be left alone. The least I could do was send some rugged neonate to try and slow you down.”

“You and I both know where this will lead. You will run out of options, and will have pissed me off enough that I will actually try to bring you down, and so will have no other choice than to send the Soldat after me.”

“So?”

“So you will not only have lost one good asset, aka me, but two.”

Pierce laughed at her, shaking his head in disbelief and taking a step towards his bar.

“Please, girl, do not humilliate yourself further. The Asset thinks you dead, if you ever existed in its broken little head. You have no chance at swaying it.”

“I did not say I would convert him, Pierce. I said he would be lost.” She clarified, voice cold as she watched the older man pour himself a drink.

“You think you'll be able to kill it, Azure? Like you did with the little witch that crawled out of the Red Room?”

The hiss left her lips unconsciously, like a snake rearing up its head when its nest was threatened.

“You do not know what you are talking about.”

“Oh, but I do. Your little soon-to-be-Avenger. The Asset has told me about your relationship with her.”

“Look, Pierce, I'm here only to end the open fire...”

“Oh, but you aren't. You are here to measure me up, to see if now it's the time to strike, to reveal yourself to the world and, more importantly, to Shield. You are here to find out how much of Hydra's recent quietness is due to a lack of strenght, or reserving the strenght for one final strike.”

“You will stop trying to find me, and you will not have to face me at the end.” She seathed her knife and walked backwards to a nearby window, readying herself to jump. Before she did, though, Pierce called out for her.

“Was it worth it? Giving us up, leaving the Assset to Rumlow. All for your little prodigy. Was it worth it?”

__

_2014, Omsk, Russia_

Anya sighed, and reveled on the small contact with her sister in arms as her smile turned nostalgic and sad.

_Yes, it was._

“You are warrin' about gettin' up or not, so get your ass...” The rest of Natalia's sentence was lost either to the pillow under her head or the slurred Russian that meddled in between.

Anya chuckled, and rolled over the the empty, cold side of the bed to get up. That's when she saw the dim light from a phone in the otherwise dark room.

When her eyes focused on the artificially-lighted face of the Captain, she could not contain her smirk.

“I would ask why you aren't sleeping, but I think I know the answer.” She whispered, and his blue eyes met hers as he lowered his phone, “Also, lower the brightness of that thing, or a boat will find us.”

At his confused expression, she extended her hand, and when he handed her the phone, patiently and silently showed him how to fix the reason for premature blindness.

He smiled in thanks, and sat up in his bed, turning to her as she did the same.

“Thanks. I was...uh, talking to Tony. He says the solution for the code will be used by Jarvis and we will have a translation by the time we get back.”

“Bingo.”

“What?”

“I may not have known you for so long, Steve, but you...” She stopped, the teasing smile on her face turning kind, almost warm, “I understand.”

__

_2012, Prague_

“A Norse God?” Azure repeated, and her contact nodded, “An alien-commanding God?”

“Yep.”

“And his shit powerful wife?”

“Yep.”

“And they sent a spy to fight it?” She gritted out, shaking her head, wondering to herself how the fuck they had thought when they decided to form that strike team. Stark, she gets, considering he is more than a fighter and even when forced to fight, his suits and artifacts would keep him more than safe. Captain America, she also gets, considering that if her intel is correct, James' old friend was itching for a fight since being thawn out of the ice. She even gets why they would bring Barton in, considering how dangerous he was, and how much of an advantage they could have by bringing in a talented ranged fighter.

But Natalia? Why on the devil's ashy asshole would they draw her in and risk getting her killed?

“Hey, don't kill the messenger.” Noah shrugged, raising his hands. The blonde merely huffed in response.

“I trust you have intel on Hydra's next move?”

“Yes...” He drawled out, sly smile taking over his lips, probably thiking about what he could ask in exchange for his information.

The blonde assassing smiled back, and the man grew tense.

“And I also trust you prefer to get out of here on your own two feet?” She added, to which the man swallowed and nodded, “Good boy.”

“The Asset will not be deployed, Azure.”

“Good.” She sighed, but Noah continued:

“I don't think it's about keeping him safe, though. I think they are up to something, something big.”

She raised an eyebrow at the man on the chair.

“Are you asking me, love?”

“You worked for them.”

“And you spy them, so don't ask that kind of questions to your other employers, dear, or those teeth we paid off will be plucked back out.”

 


	28. Chapter 28

 

_2014, Omsk, Russia_

“But I'm assuming talking to Tony was a distraction to your current state of full wakefullness at...four a.m.,” Anya continued, checking her phone for the time with a grimace at the light, “So...care to share why our pilot is wasting a night's sleep?”

“You are awake too.”

“I have bunked with a blanket stealer and a grumpy five-year-old in the body of a 29 years old woman.” She smiled, but a the same time lowering her gaze and narrowing her eyes at the floor, searching for the simple slippers she had brought with her, fearing to lower her feet to the freezing floor without them.

Steve saw what she was looking for, and crouched down to hand them to her. She muttered a thank you, and when her eyes went back to his, silently repeating her question, he shrugged.

“I don't like...sleeping in the cold.”

_It's in my bones by now._

“Oh.”

The soldier smiled at her, “Though, I did not know you were so good at figuring out all situations.”

“I'm a spy, love,” She whispered back, lowering her now cladded feet to the floor and signaling to the blond to follow her with a tilt of her head. As they walked to the balcony, she continued, “'Sides, I thought you had read Stark's file.”

“Yeah, I did. Takes a while getting used to, though.”

“Tell me about it.” She muttered.

“Yeah, about that, are you...okay?” She raised her eyebrows at his concerned frown, stopping near the door to the balcony to grab the robe the humble hotel had provided, and wrapping it around herself.

“I am not part of your merry group, Steve. You don't have to worry about me.”

“You will have to stop and catch your breath at some point.” He argued, stepping closer, the same intensity residing on his blue eyes.

_I will let you know when I do._

Still, she narrowed her eyes and insisted, “I assure you, no amount of mind-games is enough to stop me. There's a reason other than James to Hydra's...attachment to me.”

“He hated it when people called him James, you know.” Steve quiped in, an easy smile on his face.

They walked together to the railing, and Anya leaned her elbows on it with a sigh. Omsk was still mostly asleep, only faint sounds and a dying light remaining on their sight.

“Oh, I know. Why did you think I call him that?” She answered, “'Sides, he got used to it.”

“Trust me, he still hated it.”

Anya shrugged, “He never said anything.”

Steve rolled his eyes with a huff, but still the fond smile resided on his lips.

“Of course he didn't,” He mumbled in nostalgic disdain, and then added, “Anything for a pretty doll.”

And because she couldn't resist it, she feigned sweetness in her voice and teased,

“Oh, you think I'm pretty, Steve?”

When his eyes met hers, she knew that he considered answering directly to her at the time, but then he lowered his head and huffed an awkward laugh.

“You were...talking about why Hydra wants you.”

She nodded once, looking back at the dormant city.

“I'm resilient. Learned that from my mother, if something like that can be tought. She fought for France during the First War, met my father on the front, and when they married, she became one of the Generals of the Night Witch program. Back then, if you were useful, you were Soviet,” A chuckle left her lips, “But, at some point the battlefield becomes...enough, y'know? So, the merry couple settled down, bought a house and brought three little fuckers to the world. By the way, those fuckers are my brothers and me.

Anya leaned closer to Steve, and raising her eyes to finally meet his, she whispered,

“She never said it, but I was her favorite,” She laughed at herself, shaking her head, and continued, “She tought me most of what I know. She tought me to lie, to...survive as a woman in a world of men. My mother used to say that I was born with war on my blood. That war was a part of me, like my blonde hair, or the color of my skin. But back then I didn't get it. I mean, I knew what war was,” Another chuckle, this time one devoid of humor, left her lips, “Hell, everyone back then knew what it was. We could still see it in the eyes of the survivors. But...that happening a second time? That was...impossible. Why would...?”

“Why would someone wish for that to happen again?” Steve filled in, and Anya sighed, nodding her head.

“I forget you...I forget I'm not the only one, sometimes.” She ground out, as the part of her that learned to kill before being killed, that learned in that cold basement that her own survival is her priority, even before her own sanity; that part screamed and bellowed to her to build the wall back up.

But Anya was tired. Tired of her life being on the edge, tired of fighting to live, tired of looking over her shoulder everywhere she went, tired of the guild she pretended to ignore.

Tired of seeing Natalia having grown up to hate her, tired of escaping from the very thing she helped build, tired of the nagging knowledge that the man she loved died when he fell from a train in 1945.

Anya was tired, and fuck it if Steve didn't look at her like she was probably one of the only sane things he had known in a very long time, and fuck it if she didn't long to close her eyes, just for once in over twenty years, and know someone has her back.

But because she hasn't known someone as self-destructive as herself, she started,

“I knew about you being brought back. Tracked you down, even. Figured, if anyone would help me bring...” She stopped herself. _Bring what? Bring James back? Oh, love, no one can, but himself._ Shaking her head, Anya continued, “If anyone could help me infiltrate, neutralize and escape a Hydra facility, it was you.”

She saw through the corner of her eyes as his tall frame got closer to her own, and as his shirt-clad forearms leaned over the railing, next to her own.

Still, she kept her eyes on the horizon. When you lower your gaze from the stars, her mother used to say, you foolishly start to believe that things are simple, that there is not an entire universe beyond our reach. When you lower your gaze from the stars, you believe foolish things, like love being able to save us all.

“What stopped you?” He whispered, propting Anya to supress an irritated groan. If only he would stop being so understanding. Fuck, can't people tell she wants them to be angry at her?

But, before she could stop herself, she spat,

“You were with _SHIELD._ ”

Steve huffed a laugh at the venom in her tone, “We're not so bad.”

_Fuck his stupid blue eyes._

_Wait, when did I started looking at him?_

Anya smiled back, “Can't say the same about us, sadly.”

_Seriously, think. How long have I been looking at him? Too long? How long is too long, though?_

A few seconds passed, and the part of her that was more of a cornered cat than a person started to get itchy.

_We have been smiling at one another for a minute now._

_This is weird._

_It's weird, isn't it?_

They broke off their silent conversation when a yawn broke its way out of Steve's mouth. Anya frowned. He is a super-soldier, how long has he gone without sleeping for his body to be demanding it so?

“You should be sleeping.” She deadpanned, only a slight command in her tone.

“So should you.”

“I am not Captain America.” She stated, and he nodded in response, running a hand through his short sand-colored hair.

“You are right. This would be weird if you were.”

_The sassy twat._

But Anya kept her smile gentle, and her tone calm as she stated,

“Losing sleep will only make the waiting longer, Steve. We will have the file by tomorrow.”

His face hardened, and the blond hung his head, his forearms supporting him from where he leaned on the railing.

“I know,” He sighed, “But it feels like...I should be doing something, you know?”

“You are.”

“No, I am not. I didn't have a clue on finding Bucky until you came around, until you drew Rumlow out of hiding.

He stood up to full height abruptly, pacing a little as he ran a hand through his short hair, again.

“I didn't even know Rumlow was alive until you told me, and even then, I did nothing because _maybe_ he knew something about Bucky,” At his blatant disgust for what he did, for what he believed was the betrayal of whatever that entity he owned his body and soul to; Anya pursed her lips, but remained silent. He needed it. So, after a few angry breaths, she heard Steve continue, “I don't even know who I'm looking for. Apparently he had been on your track for the last months, but went the other way when you approached us, when you approached _me._ ”

“Steve...”

“You can't tell me what I did was right, Azure, you _can't._ I agreed to a deal from one of the people responsible for the fall of what I helped build, what _Peggy built,_ ” A bitter laugh left his lips, sending a shiver of the crippling cold Anya thought she had left behind down her back. “It's all a damn joke. I lost Bucky to Hydra back in 1944, and then I went under the ice thinking the threat was over. Then I find out they got Bucky not once, but twice, because they had-” Steve shook his head, “And the very thing that was supposed to stand after Hydra fell after the war became what gave it power, and...just caused an implosion. Destroyed everything. And I lost Bucky again and it seems like it keeps repeating.”

“But you are not going under the ice this time,” She stated, eyes narrowed in a compassionate command. “You will stay and fight because _you have the chance to_ , because if James knew something about you is that you never back down from a fight,” That earned her a smile from the soldier, and she smiled back, taking a step ahead and placing her hand on her shirt-clad chest. With a gentler voice, she continued, “And because you are not alone. They have your back,” She motioned with her head to the sleeping soldiers in the room, “just like you have theirs.”

Steve's smile turned teasing as he whispered,

“'They'?”

The blonde breathed a laugh, bowing her head down, wondering on the back of her head why her hand was still over his beating heart.

“I'll have your back, too, Captain,” And because she couldn't stop herself, she added, “Even if it's just for a chance to ogle your behind.”

At her words, the soldier broke in a laugh, his chest rumbling under her touch as his right hand came up to cradle hers. As a slight reddness spread over his sharp cheekbones, Anya wished, not for the first time, that she could have met the boys before war had laid its hands on them, when Steve would be the good man he is today, only without having to fight his own mind to be so.

The laugh died down, only remnants of secret smiles left in its wake, and shining eyes battling one another. She noticed how her hand was infinitely warmer than her own, and that the same hand he used to throw his shield and bring Rumlow to his knees, cradled her injured wrist with the utmost care.

_Alexei was pulling at her hand, guiding her through the sea of people._

“ _Move, Anushka! Mama and Papa are getting the drinks, let's get our seats!”_

_She followed her older brother with a smile, excitement bubbling within her chest at the chance of seeing those Americans in the movie. She had heard their movies had sound!_

_Her father had smiled at her Mama the way that made his eyes twinkle, saying something about a lady named Helen and that she had the same hair color as her Mama. Her Mama hit him in the head with her purse, but Papa still smiled._

_She wanted to see if the lady was like Mama. And if the American planes looked like their own._

“ _I bet Mama flies better than those Americans.”_

“ _Of course she does,” Matvei interrupted, trailing behind them, his big hand on her shoulder, keeping her safe._

_She doesn't remember much of the film, only that sometimes the sound was weird, and she remembers the one her brother scoffed at, Monte, kissing the blonde on the lips, laughing with her._

_Her Mama cried because he died at the end. Anya didn't._

Anya blinks past the memories, and somehow finds her voice.

“I think this is the part where you kiss me,” She whispered, her smile widening as the only indication that he had listened to her was the reddening of the tips of his ears.

“Do you want me to?” He whispered back, though somehow they had gravitated closer to one another.

“ _Yes_.”

Oh, and she remembers something else.

The lady on the film looked happier with one of the brothers, but smiled more with the other. When Anya asked why, her Mama answered for the first time what would be branded over the little girl's heart for years to come.

 _It's all lies._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should definitely check out this movie. It's heartbreaking in a way, so I won't spoil it, but it's one of my favorites. Also, it was a silent film, but my cannon -cause this movie is so freakin awesome that I needed to include it- the Soviets doubled it with voice overs, which is why Anya found the sound weird.  
> AAAnyways, hope you are enjoying!  
> Love, Luce


	29. Chapter 29

_2013, Guadalajara, Mexico_

Azure broke into the office with her eyes narrowed and brows furrowed.

“Hydra has targeted me like I'm a fucking turkey in Thanksgiving, dear, and although I'm the best, even I grow wary of not sleeping. So you better have an explanation.” She barked, and Noah sighed, rolling her shoulders.

She took the time the man spent trying to dissolve his own tension to study him. Set shoulders, tired expression and -if she was not mistaken- he had lost some weight.

“I know.” He bit out.

“Then why send for me? I am a sitting duck here, Noah.”

“I know.”

She felt bad for the man. Truly did. Being a double agent took its toll on someone, but she was growing tired of the vague answers. So, she unseathed her knife and stuck it in the hard wood of his expensive desk.

“Talk. Now.” She growled, to which the man aswered with a bitter laugh. Well, that was new.

“Or what? You'll kill me? You need me, Azure.”

“Oh, dear. You may be good at what you do, but you are definitely not the only one.”

“Your only chance besides me is Elena. And Hydra 's got eyes on her already.”

The ice took hold of her, and she hissed, “They what?”

Noah rubbed his forehead and met her eyes, sighing a chuckle.

“I did not tell them, Azure. Daring, not stupid, remember?”

“Then who?”

“The only one who knows beyond us both.”

She shouted a curse in Russian, kicking a tea table Noah had settled in his office to a wall.

They couldn't have known for long, as knowing Elena was alive and well with her family, and that James and her had managed her escape, meant that they knew she was...free; which they couldn't because her head would have had a prize way before if they even had a suspicion. So they haven't known for long, so he hadn't...'told' them about her until...until she left.

“ _Yobannoe dno!_ ” She bellowed, a growl in her voice that set Noah on edge.

“Azure...”

“What.” She barked, although the back of her mind noticed that his tone was calmer, less exasperated towards her. As if he needed to see the supersoldier kick a table and embbed it in the wall to remember it was not wise to upset her.

“It's not all.”

__

2014, Over the Pacific Ocean

Anya dozed off on the seat of the plane, Steve having taking over Sam's place as pilot around an hour ago. Natasha was suspiciously quiet since they left the hotel -or rather, since the redhead found her former teacher and the Captain asleep on a bench on the balcony, Anya on the soldier's lap and a blanket around their shoulders. It was an...awkward situation to say the least, especially considering that Steve and her hadn't gotten the time to talk since the previous night.

And...Anya isn't 'over' James. She doubts she can ever be 'over' him. Honestly, she doubts anyone is 'over' anyone at any point but...that's not the case. She still...loves him, in her strange way. She is, after all, willing -and able- to let this world and the next crumble like a cardhouse if it means she can save him from himself.

Not that she wouldn't try to push Hydra away from his mind if they...if she...if things weren't as they are. Because she would. Or she likes to believe she would, because she also likes to believe she had empathy and humanity before finding the American soldier in that cold prision, even after her brothers were snatched away from her.

_Fuck, this is complicated._

_Why does that feel like an excuse not to think about this?_

The still closed envelope of yellowed paperseems to weight more than ever where it sits on the secret pocket of her jacket. But, she chooses to ignore it.

Her eyes shot open as she feels a soft touch near her shoulder. Natasha stands over her, tired eyes facing her own.

“Plan on carrying me bridal style to the bunk, dear?” She teased, to which her friend responded with a smirk of her own.

“I'll leave that to the Captain. After all, you two seemed cozy enough this morning.”

Anya swallowed, “About that...”

“You want to ignore it until you figure out what to do?” Natasha finished for her. She nodded once. The spy shrugged her shoulders, and sat next to her, laying her head on her shoulder and closing her eyes with a sigh.

Anya suppressed a smile at the redhead's behavior, knowing that Natasha probably wouldn't want to hear about how she used to pull the exact same thing when she was little: push someone to something they didn't want to do or talk or think about, and offer them an out, so when they took it, she could act like she was acting on a favor to be paid and silently demand attention.

Weird girl, her sister.

Anya moved her arm so it wouldn't be trapped uner the girl's weight, lifting to her shoulders and settling more comfortably in her seat.

The redhead grumbled contemptly.

“If you try to move me, I'll tear your arm of. Poetically enough, the left one.” Natasha whispered, before succumbing to sleep.

__

They arrived on Stark's tower by mid-afternoon, and they met the billionaire on the main room.

“Good, you are here,” He mumbled, probably to himself, “Capsicle, Birdbrain, Nat, I want you on the conference room in five.”

“What, it's the popular kids lunch table now?” Anya grumbled goodheartedly, at the same time Sam complained,

“How come Natasha doesn't have a stupid nickname?”

“Easy,” Tony smirked, “I fear her.”

With a annoyed huff the former military walked past them, followed by Natasha and Steve. He stopped before following them, though, and turned to her, taking hold of her arm gently, in a reassuring way, and whispering,

“We need to...talk, right?” He sounded as lost as she felt, and that helped soothe a part of her.

Anya smiled, “Yes, later.”

“Later.” He repeated with a nod and a smile, before retreating down the hall to follow his team-mates.

Jarvis informed her that Tony had cleared a room for her, but that she was free to roam the place as she wanted. She chose the room.

The entire room was the size of a cinema back in the day, with softly colored walls, big windows but equally big curtains, and flawless furniture.

As she toed off her boots and threw herself at the bed, proving to herself that it was as soft as it looked, Anya wondered dumbly if Tony had this sort of equipment laying around, or if he just snapped his fingers and a thousand bussiness people lay at his feet whatever he wanted.

Yawning, she decided for a nap -she hadn't taken one since before Belarus, God-, so she moved to take off her jacket.

That's when she heard the crumbling of the paper, of the letter; a sound so simple, so innocuous, that she had never actually payed attention to. Now, now it seemed like it echoed in the expensive room.

She took it out of the pocket with gentleness, almost as if afraid it would crumble to dust before her very eyes.

_~~Ann.~~ I mean, Doll._

She smiles. And opens it.

_Out of all the ways I thought I would get out of the prison, Stevie being some poster-soldier wasn't one of them, let me tell ya. I mean, I don't think either of us thought about it at all, at least reallistically. Does that make sense? Did you think about getting out?_

~~_Did you get out or_ ~~

_Doesn't matter. I'm here travelling with Stevie and the Commandoes, 'erasing Hydra from the face of earth'. Propaganda's the same, I know, but it sounds different, ya know? Maybe I'm rambling. The fuckers are asleep now and Stevie keeps looking at me weird, like I'm about to fall dead._

_If ya think about it, he probably felt like this every time I looked at him back ~~wh before I we~~ Before. Can you believe I'm the small one now? Yeah, you would probably laugh at that. You would have probably liked Stevie too. I ~~wish~~ _

_He goes on and on about his girl too. Peggy. Pretty broad, but I bet I could shut them all up if I told them about you. I mean, ~~you never said~~ ~~we~~ i ~~t's not like you are my girl or~~ ~~Not that I don't want you to be~~ I'm not assuming anything, that's my point. _

_God, I'm Steve now. Fuck._

_Anyways, it's not like you are going to fucking read this. I mean, I only know your name. ~~Now I feel like one of those girls I would take out for the night. Should I tell you that? Fuck.~~ What am I gonna do? Snatch a messenger and tell them to go looking for you? ~~If you are even alive~~ I mean, you told me about Hydra hiding you so chances are not looking good._

_Chances are looking good for the rest tough. I mean, the Howling Commandoes are doing a great job, clearing Hydra out, and so is Stevie. I ~~just don't think I can~~ I mean they have a future, ya know? Like, plans and everything. I don't think I got one. And chances are, taking a powder after this is over and going back to being a civilian ain't gonna work for me, doll._

_Anyways, I should go to sleep. I'm starting to ramble and I don't wanna bore ya, Doll. After all, who is gonna tell me my chance to win ya over ain't hanging on this letter?_

_I'll write some more tomorrow, ~~I think I'm just T~~ his ain't like they told n the radio, or the fight Steve wanted to join before getting the serum. I think he knows that now. I worry for him. I know you'd crack up about this too, 'cause the guy is Captain fucking America and I go all mothering his ass._

_So, I'll stop stealing your time. Gotta get ready for tomorrow. Big mission, apparently. Fucking mountains._

~~_It ain't cheesy to say I miss you, right?_ ~~

_I'll see you soon, Doll._

_Bucky._

Shaky fingers that do not listen to her proud mind trace over the simple signature, a smile curving her lips upwards as images from the few days she got to spend with the man they called Bucky flash before her eyes, like the first movies that made her to Moscow did. It strikes her as odd, but she doesn't remember his smile.

The boyish smile he was able to throw her way during those late nights when he was able to forget where he was, and she was able to forget where she had been, that smile that showed her the charming gentleman of Brooklyn. The knowing smile that made his eyes take the shine of seriousness, that sme smile she berated and thought about his 'Stevie' must have hated, because it made you feel like he knew everything and was just waiting for you to admit it, for you to take his hand and accept his help.

She remembers the tight smile, the empty promise of being okay, sent secretly within cold halls. She remembers the relieved smile when a mission was over and she was unharmed, followed closely by the smile she hated the most, the one that spoke wonders about the man they forced him to be. The sad but firmly put smile on his full lips, the smile he showed her after a soft kiss on her forehead or, if he was particularly unsure of what would happen after they wiped the smile off, her lips. The smile that tried to show her he was still able and willing to hold off the weight of their world off her shoulders, the smile that tried to tell her that he was still there. The smiled that failed. The smile that broke her everytime she saw it.

Anya closes her eyes at the wave of emotion that takes over her, keeping her from breathing or finding the way up. The never processed grief of Bucky's death when he fell from that train hits her when she tries and fails to remember the man before the snow, the blood, and the new arm.

No, no, no. She _has_ to remember. She has to. She is the only one that can. She has to keep them, she has to...she can't forget, no. If she forgets, if _any_ more is lost, then they win and, they cannot win.

They lost to much for them to win.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...that letter. Whaddya think? I just tried to convey some slang and what I imagine Bucky's feelings of the war they are fighting and his feelings on Steve being this new beacon attracting every bad guy on the area nearly at the same time Bucky was forced to understand how high the stakes of the war they are fighting were when imprisoned, and how his role as protector of his best friend was snatched away when -I believe- he would feel Stevie would need it the most. Idk, hope you enjoyed, and I would love to hear your feedback, even though this is part of just one huge update, so you'll probably skip this, but...  
> Anyways!  
> Love, Luce.


	30. Chapter 30

 

_2014, New York_

_No. You are Azure, you have been for over 70 years. You do not fall, you do not falter. So stop._

She doesn't stop to think why the voice sounds strikingly alike her mother's, but instead opens her eyes, focusing on a stupid pear painting on the wall opposite of her, and takes a few deep breaths.

A hand still on the yellowed letter, she sighs and takes it carefully back in both hands, beginning to fold it. Only, a slightly more neat writing calls her attention on the other side of the paper.

Eyebrows set on a frown, Anya sets to read it.

_I will not read whatever ~~he~~ I wrote back then, but I'm pretty sure whatever is said there, still stands._

_You are sleeping now, and I know I shouldn't have taken this, much less opened it, but t ~~here's litt I~~ know you are getting out of here, Doll. You better, 'cause I didn't bet my life on that you would live to see the third digit on your -actual- age for nothin._

_And because I know you will not open this until I'm no longer there, there's some things I need to tell you._

_I killed a soldier in Azzano that looked like you. I don't remember much, but I remember that. Sometimes I still see him die when I close my eyes. ~~I don't know why though, maybe they put it in my head? I don't know anymore.~~_

_When I am no longer there, remember Natalia has your back, even if she denies it. The only secret she has kept from you was because of me, and there's no point in hiding it now. Pierce, the new director, is looking into our history. Specifically, our missions together. I know I should have told you about this but I know what is going to happen, Doll, ~~and I'm oka~~ I ~~know you will be better~~ and there's nothing we can do._

_I still have yet to see you dancing with that red, red lipstick on your lips. Sometimes I believe I did take you out once we went back to Brooklyn, but we didn't, did we? Go back, I mean. I sometimes forget what happened, but then I remember. ~~I don't know if I want to remember, sometimes.~~_

_I wish I could have done more. I wish I could have gotten you out of here, even if it meant that I never saw you again. ~~But I didn't. Selfish bastard I am, ain't I?~~ I wish I could have kept you safe ~~, I wish~~ It does not matter now, what matters is that if you are reading this, I am no longer there, ~~and maybe it's for the better~~ and I hope you are okay, I hope you made it, and I hope you forgive me, Doll._

_I love you, ~~I think?~~ Even when they try to tell me I don't._

_James._

Anya remembers reading, once, in some stupid idea of humans being enough to understand grief, that losing someone is not that bad, but then realizing they are lost? That's a completely different story, a completely different feeling. That's bullshit, but she got it. She also remembers reading about how grief is like having a building dropped on you, for some reason. That's bullshit too. All of it was bullshit, if you asked her.

We strive to understand something that was not made to be understood, because she wanted to believe it was not made to be experienced, either.

She wanted to believe, like she had wanted to believe her father when he told her Mama would come back, like she had wanted to believe her own lie when she told herself Matvei never made it back to the Union.

She wanted to believe, because if she didn't, it meant that the tears burning her eyes were real, were justified; it meant that the hole in her heart, that hole filled with the melody of his laugh, the cadence of his voice, dripping the scent of his skin, shaped like his smile...it meant that hole was to remain there until her body could no longer run on the love she had once been able to have and to give.

And call her a hypocrite, but Anya was not sure she could live without faith anymore. She had run on faith since her mother died, and maybe since a time before that, too. Faith on her family, faith in her country, faith in herself, faith in James. Now she had to have faith too, she had to trust her instinct and believe her redemption was there for her to achieve.

With a weak laugh, she wipes a few errant tears off her cheeks. God, she can't even remember when was the last time she had cried.

_Oh, yes, I can. Let's not go there._

 

A knock on her door brings her out of her own memories, and Anya rushes to hide the letter back in the envelope and in the pocket of her jacket before yelling for them to come in.

Stark steps in, a small smile on his lips.

“Hey, kiddo. You alright'?”

“Always.” She answers easily, a gentle smile on her lips, to which the billionaire answers with a defiant shake of his head, but says no further. Anthony motions at her bed, where she is sitting, and at her nod, takes his place at her side.

“Listen, kiddo...”

“I am merely ten or so years younger than your father, Anthony.”

He faked a wince at her words, but carried on with a smile on his lips.

“As I was saying...” His expression turned serious, and a part of Anya's brain that had been dormant for too long now, awoke to tell her to listen and analyse the situation. So, she remained silent. “I know life hasn't been easy on you, probably because of your own doing most of the time but...if you think about it, the same applies to me, you know? You are a very capable and smart woman, and, if I'm being honest, our only mean to know how Hydra works on the inside.”

“You need me. You want me to stay.” She stated, eyes hardened as she saw in her mind the symbol of the eagle in Shield's logo being tainted by Hydra's all-encompassing vines.

“I am offering you the chance. You are no fool, and you know you are valuable to both Nat and Cap there, not only for your skills and knowledge.

_Emotional bargaining. Check._

“And you came here for a reason, and although Rumlow lies in the shadows for now, we both know he still has his eyes on you.

_Fear tactics. Check._

“And all that and more is true, I don't need to spell it out for you, do I?” She shook her head stiffly, and he continued, “And yes, you may be in danger, and yes, there may be more than one crazy psycho after you right now, bu-...”

“I sold my sword arm, my skill, and my soul a long time ago, Anthony, and for an immensely more profitable reward,” She barked, interrupting the man with a stern look, iciness settling over her, shining brightly in her expressionless eyes, “I have not broken free to fall again into the hands of the same kind of men that think throwing enough willing boys with toothpicks for weapons of to fight monsters will solve the problem.”

Stark considered her in silence for a few instants, enough for Anya to feel itchy in her own skin, but not enough -oh, there would never be enough- to make her lower her gaze or her chin.

“That is not what we are, or at least, we try not to be. When Cap's world blew up in very colorful and public ways a few months ago, he made it very clear that if we were to continue with our work, our tactics had to be completely different from Shield's.” He explained, but she still argued,

“Oh, it is easy to throw Carter and the rest under the bus when you are ahead, Stark. Their mistakes are your own. You are not free of the possibility of being fooled, just like they weren't.”

He ran a hand through his face, visibly trying not to lose the 'I'm a serious man' mask he had put on to talk to her. She swore she heard him mumble something about how machines were easy to talk to, but she ignored it.

“You, my little she-devil, are one confrontational woman when you feel you have no choice.” He stated, and though his lips were not curved in a smile, his eyes shone in empathy and understanding. It made Anya uneasy.

“So?”

“So...you are missing my main point, by a long shot. Yes, you are useful, yes, you are chased by a madman and yes, we want you on our side,” He raised a finger to stop her when she opened her mouth, and a smile formed on Tony's lips before he continued, “But, what is also true is that you are as useful to us as you want to be, you are chased by a delusional man that thinks he can beat you, and we want you with us as long as you _want_ to be here. It is entirely up to you to stay or leave.”

“Why do I have problems believing it?” She taunted, eyes narrowing in defiance.

“Because you have been burned one too many times, kiddo.”

__

Anya walked into the conference room Anthony had pointed at, with himself at her heels, and faced the room full of the people that held the Western world in their hands.

“Well, have to say, Hydra was a little less intense when welcoming me in.” She mumbled, and Sam stood up with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“Oh, shut up. I've saved these munchkins' asses more times than I can count and I'm still an 'independent agent'.”

As the blonde opened her mouth to answer with a jab of her own, Fury interrupted her by standing up and clearing his throat.

“As lovely as it would be to witness the rest of...that, I have a plane to catch. I don't even know why I'm here, considering I'm not these motherfuckers' babysitter anymore, but hey, when my kids call, I have to be there,” He turned to her then, eyes dark and expression cold. Azure resisted the urge to smirk at the figure of authority, and kept her defiant eyes on his as he continued, “I have no authority to welcome you in, but I have enough skill to track you down and kill you, if they ever need to...welcome you out. Clear?”

She nodded, “It's clear, Fury.”

His eyebrow rose at the title she used, but she refused to back down, eyes still locked on his. She would burn like a witch before calling another man 'Sir'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought the letter was over!?!? Hahaha, no it wasn't. I suffered like a bitch while writing this, so you better suffer too, my darlings. What did you think of it? Did you like it, did you hate it?  
> AAAAAAnyways, I would love to hear your thoughts,  
> Love, Luce.


	31. Chapter 31

 

2014, New York

Anya sent a kick to the punching bag and watched it crumble at her feet, the heavy chains holding it to the roof caving under her strength. With an annoyed huff, she moved to pick it up, but was interrupted by a soft sound behind her, much like a throat clearing, but she couldn't hear it properly over the sound of his voice and so many others ringing in her head.

She could still not let go of the letter, the knot in her throat still hurting her like a dull dagger going deeper and deeper each time she tried to swallow around it.

It was stupid, really, how sentimental she had allowed herself to become. If Rumlow could see her now...

But she turned around, blowing a few strands of hair from her sweaty forehead, and faced the figure of Steve in the doorway to the spacious gym of Stark's improvised facility.

“Oh...” She mumbled, standing straighter. She was so not ready to take part in the conversation they were due to have.

“The code is cracked.” Steve implied, lifting the folder in his hand.

“That means...?”

“Yes.”

She walked towards him with a new purpose, with a new kind of song being sung in her bloodstream.

“Last known location?”

“Towards Riga, Lithuania. Two days after you were...you decided to come to Natasha.”

The swift Russian curse left her lips, “That means Rumlow was right. He was driven away by Shield.”

“But...why? I mean, he pulled me out of that river, he...” Steve started, but stopped when Anya placed her hand over his quickly beating heart.

“Don't forget the face of Shield you see is not the one we have come to know.” She answered, a sad smile on her lips and an apology stuck in her proud throat.

He lowered his head in silent resignation.

“I suppose you're right,” He mumbled, taking a step back to open the folder again. “But that's all we have got, there's no pattern, and even the lead on Riga has gone cold.”

“Why do you think that happened? Why do you think Hydra lost sight of him?” She wondered, a small plan playing on her mind already.

“Because...because he stopped following you.”

“Exactly. Rumlow said that once our traces differed from one another, he knew it was safe to approach me and try to-”

“To lure him out through you.”

“Exactly. Stupid plan, really. But yes.”

“So...” He insisted, a small furrow between his brows. She insisted, though.

“So he had the chance to go right ahead and get him while I was unaware, but decided to leave behind the chase for James and come for me,” She paced around the room, a hand going through her hair, “I guess what I'm saying is that they have specific reasons for getting him through me, for avoiding direct contact. And I think we should follow their example.”

“We think we should do nothing?”

“I didn't say that. But forcing him to come back will not work, Steve. It's been only months and...

_And I'm scared of who I'll find._

_And I_ _can't help but see two sides of a coin in him, I can't help but picture the scarred but_ hopeful _kid being dragged into the shadows by a man that did so many wrong things, believing he was right._

“And maybe we should respect that he does not want to be found. Maybe...maybe we should let the waters settle before going on a search, and just...try to meet him halfway.” She continued, a forced lightness on her tone.

“Do you...are you sure it will work?” Steve insisted. She could see his internal battle, the fight between the man that believed his friend should have a choice, and the boy who needed his brother back.

So, Anya tried for a smile, “Has forcing something on James ever worked?”

He chuckled, “I guess not.”

At his silent agreement to her plan, she nodded, and grabbed her water bottle from the floor. Continuing to the doors and back to the amazing shower in her room, Anya rambled,

“Good. Now, I will not put my feet up on my first days as a member of... whatever this is, so I believe I could assist with the decodification of some of Hydra's files that were leaked by Natal-”

She stopped her rant when Steve gently grabbed her elbow, stopping her. When his hesitant eyes met hers, she felt whatever mask she had been able to put up, whatever wall she had built since reading James' letter, crumble to dust before her very eyes.

“Anya, I think...maybe we should talk. A-About what happened in Russia.”

The stupid part of her brain wanted her to joke about 'What happens in Russia, stays in Russia', but the rational part of her, and more importantly maybe, the part of her that had already analyzed his every movement, the nervous clench of his jaw, the way his shoulders seemed tighter than ever, the searching eyes facing her own; those parts told her to swallow past the lump in her throat and answer with the truth.

But when she opened her mouth, she realized truth...truth changes from one person to the other.

So yes, maybe it was true that she wasn't ready, and neither was he. Maybe it was true that she may never be ready to let go, but...maybe it was also true that she was tired of looking over her shoulder, that she wanted to be held in someone's arms and promised that no harm would come and yes, maybe his were the wrong arms, but she did not want those truths.

So she offered him -and herself- the only truth they could handle,

“Maybe...maybe we should...go with it. I...it's been years since I've stopped overthinking everything.”

And he smiled. She tried to tell herself it was as relieved a smile as her own, but she had had enough lies for the time being.

__

_2013, Sao Pablo, Brazil_

“I hate this club. I hate you. I hate this.” Anya mumbled at Noah's back, shimming out of her tight dress and into her training leggings and oversized Shield t-shirt. And yes, she was completely aware of how hypocritical -and not to mention dangerous- of her it was to wear the symbol of the organization she had tried to destroy.

But, the same could be said about the vibranium-alloy knives at her waist, with Hydra's symbol burnt into the nearly-indestructible metal.

“It's not so bad.” The young man answered, a smile in his voice. She told him he could turn around, and frowned at him when their eyes met.

“I was asked to dance. Three times. I was invited a drink. I was smiled at, by several people,” Her eyes narrowed at the man, “It's unsettling.”

“It's Brazil in Carnival. Get used to it.”

She watched the boy smile in barely contained joy, completely comfortable in his own skin even though his message said Hydra had targeted him a few weeks ago, and that something big was about to blow up on their faces. She watched the boy, and pretended not to know about the secretive brazilian programming student, she pretended not to know about Emanuel Rivero, who escaped Rocinha nearly a decade ago, leaving no trail. She pretended, because that's what she was good at.

“I won't. Trust me. Now, your news.”

“It's no news, actually.”

“First, the attack. Are you okay?”

His eyes twinkled with mischief, and she swallowed a groan at her stupid show of appreciation for the kid.

“Aww. Worried about me, weren't you?” She narrowed her eyes, not saying a word, and he rolled his eyes, finally answering, “I came out unharmed. Which tells you a lot of their intentions. It was almost a...courtesy, to send their men after me.”

“Why?”

“My guess? They know you have my back.”

“Why lure me out now? They stopped trying to get me when I left that message in Pierce's home.”

It had been a tricky undertaking, but Azure had managed, a few months after the attempts to capture her -or worse- started, to sneak her way into Pierce's apartment, leaving only one message:

They will stop before what I promised you years ago comes true. To avoid any...incidents. Don't you agree, Director?

The had stopped, so quickly, she would have been convinced Pierce feared her, had he not sent a few of his men after Noah, and making noise near the city she had settled in, showing her how willing he was to actually back down now.

Azure was brought back to the present when Noah leaned back in his seat, expression serious.

“Azure...what do you know about Project Insight?”

__

_2014, Outskirts of Ida-Viru, Estonia_

Anya pressed her hand to her ear, telling Barton and the Captain that her area was clear. She was still the only member whose communication device was hand-activated, but she refused to have everyone hearing her all the time, even in missions.

“One would think after the Union fell, they would stop building facilities in the region. It's like they want to be driven out.” Barton mused from his advantaged position on a nearby rooftop.

“If there's something to be admired about Hydra, is their resilience. The base is not even new, it was taken in the 60's during a kulak rebellion in the area.” Anya explained, walking silently towards the main office.

“Do I want to know?” Cap quipped in, and she huffed a laugh.

“Kulaks were the rich peasants, back when this country was fighting for independence. They were being reported to labor camps because they were...rich peasants.” She offered, cringing at her own words.

“Lovely.”

“Hey, I didn't say it was a nice story,” She defended, although even she could hear the stupid smile on her face, “At least they drove out Hydra.”

“So much good that did.”

“Gave you a chance to complain about closing it fifty years later.” She answered, the same playful jab to her voice.

Barton interrupted with a long, drawn-out sigh, “This is the weirdest foreplay I have ever witnessed. And I am there when Sam and Nat 'flirt', so that is saying something.”

She shut the comms with a laugh she hid under a cough, and continued advancing.

A faint, electronic sound brought her attention back to the mission. Inside the office there was a small computer, she assumed personal, and scarce white furniture.

The gravelly voice by her ear stopped her as she was searching one of the cabinets in the office for the odd sound.

“I gave you your time, _Ann_.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, about Anya's message to Pierce in the 2013 part. In chapter 15, when Bucky is taken from Belarus back to Siberia, Pierce says something very similar to her, giving her a chance to fight for him or to keep the girls safe, showing her his power over her and their lives.  
> So, when Anya does it in this chap, is a show of her own dominance, of her skill and her determination to get the upper hand, but her contorl not to kill him even though she was in his very own apartment.  
> I usually don't spell things out to you guys, because I don't need to, because you are amazing and smart and I love you, but the quote from chap 15 was so insignificant that maybe I feared you wouldn't notice.  
> Sorry.  
> AAAnyways, hope you enjoyed,  
> Love, Luce.


	32. Chapter 32

_2014, Outskirts of Ida-Viru, Estonia_

She stood up, slowly, and pressed the button on her ear to reach her teammates through the comms.

“Don't bother, the comms are down. Which means we only have a few minutes before your new guard dog sets out to find you.” Rumlow taunted, his voice emerging all throughout the room from the speakers of the small computer.

“Isn't taking over electronics more Dr. Zola's style?”

He ignored her. He was actually getting good.

“I would have sworn you would be looking for lover-boy by now. I know for a fact he kept thinking you would, at first.

Her fists clenched, but she refused to move or show any other emotion, her eyes still staring at nothing, refusing to give in and show him any of the cards in her hand.

“Come back for him, I mean,” Rumlow continued, his voice laced with morbid delight, “He got a beating each time he asked for ya', before they started zapping his brain into shape. But even after a bit of though love, he would still want to see you and the girls. Me and my men, we had to get creative, you see? Find new ways of forcing his broken little mind into submission.

He laughed to himself. It sounded like gravel in Anya's ears.

“Then they started with the 'forceful rewiring'. The zaps. It was fun, playing with him once they were done. Bastard wouldn't even struggle.”

With hot, angry tears burning in her eyes, the horrible dread setting in her stomach, she did the only thing she could.

She laughed.

A horrible, manic and borderline hysterical laugh left her lips, burning her throat on the way out.

“If you think you can impress me by sucking your own dick at how bad you were, my boy, you really have no idea who you are talking to.

And just in case he would try to play her, Anya took of the earpiece and threw it to the floor, crushing it under her foot, before continuing.

“And if, for one second, you believed I was tamed because I run with dogs instead of wolves...come find me, love. If you believe I will not see you die over and over before I allow your body to extinguish, then come find me. No leverage to hold me away, no threats, no promises. Come find me now or state your business and cower back to your cave.”

The words left her throat in a growl, shoulders moving up and down too quickly to her liking, her heartrate still running with fury at the words of that...monster. No, she would not call him a monster. She would not give him the gift of forgetting his humanity. She wanted to remember he was human, she wanted to remember he was not without light, so that the monstrosity of what he did would not be dimmed. Even if she felt her heart breaking, she would not call him a monster. So she clenched her fists and told herself the day would come, when he would have to stop running.

Rumlow remained silent for a few seconds, giving her a small victory.

“I want you to find him, I thought I was clear.”

She turned around, brazing ire taking over the cold rage, and in a fast stride, walked to the computer to see the masked face of the man she swore there and then, would see bleed slowly to death.

“I am not stupid, nor a dog. Get your men to find him if you want, or go yourself, you pathetic coward.” She barked, to which he only chuckled in response, shaking his head like a father would to a disobedient child.

“I thought you would say that, Ann. That's why I'm being forced to let you go.”

“What?”

“You, Azure, are officially retired now.”

She felt the heat of the explosion before she even heard the bomb go off.

_So that was the beeping._

__

_2014, Sao Pablo, Brazil_

Her eyes narrowed at her informant.

“I know enough.”

“Meaning...”

“Meaning I took part in it, but was...forced to retire before I could see it completed,” She finished with a sigh, taking a seat, “Why?”

“Remember when they sent you after Black Widow, right before you...quit?”

“Yes. It was merely a test.”

Noah nodded and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.

“Well, I think that now that Project Insight is ready to deploy, they are going to test the loyalty of the Asset to their cause,” His eyes were dark, almost anguished at what he knew, and she wondered in the back of her mind if he ever regretted the path taken, if he ever pondered over the possibilities of a life without the kind of knowledge that embedded his eyes with darkness and pain. “And Captain America has taken too much of a role lately, in their opinion.”

They were sending him after Steve?

What kind of twisted bastards were they, really? They had had eyes on the American hero since he was thawed out of the ice, and she knew they had had many opportunities to end him quickly and discreetly. Why...Why the fuck would they send his best friend after him?

Only if Schmidt could see what Hydra has become now.

“Fuckers.” She bit out, clenching her slim jaw and leaning back in her seat.

“And I think that explains why they have been so...keen on getting to you.”

“How?”

“They need Azure back.”

__

_2014, Outskirts of Ida-Viru, Estonia_

Anya heard murmured voices and felt a hand gently grabbing her own before she even opened her eyes.

Quickly sitting up, she was faced with the concerned faces of Clint and Steve, and she bit back a word that regretfully burnt her throat on the way down.

Wincing at the smell of smoke that seemed to permeate the air and the horrible headache she was starting to get, Anya mumbled a question about Rumlow and what happened.

“It was supposed to be an ambush. Freelancers were crawling through the walls by the time he took over the network,” Clint answered, reaching over to squeeze her knee gently and leaving for the control panel of their plane. From his position, he continued, “And according to Jarvis...”

“You are a wanted woman, Miss Ludkov.” The mechanical voice of the AI filtered into the room, forcing a smile out of the blonde.

“I believe I was wanted already. I mean, being former Hydra does not come cheap.”

“No,” Steve interrupted, a serious, even angry tone in his voice. “Rumlow has ordered a hit out on you. Every freelancer in the West will come after you.”

_Well, fuck._

“How did Rumlow even get to us?”

“Apparently the intel you have been cracking for us for the last few months had a few bugs in it,” Clint explained, “Like the location of the facility. It was actually abandoned, but Rumlow sent mercenaries when he figured out we were on the way.”

Anya nodded, her brow furrowing as she repeated the last moments in the facility before thigs -literally- blew up on her face.

“What did he want then? Risk all those mercenaries, and the raw power the new army of bought men represent...and all for a few moments? What was his goal?” She muttered to herself.

“Was the bomb too subtle?” The archer quipped in, earning a glare from the Captain but a smile from the blonde beside him.

“It wouldn't kill me, and he knew it.”

“The order is to kill you though, so...maybe it was simply a message?” Steve offered, “He chooses to avoid killing you but lets you know his men will?”

“Or finds a way to finish me undirectly so he can sleep without fearing a metal arm up his asshole by dawn.” She barked, hopping from the table and looking down at her soot and dust on her clothes and body and wincing in disgust.

She could hear Barton choking on his own saliva at her words, but she ignored him, sending a small smile at the Captain and trotted to the small cabin of the plane to take a shower and change her clothes.

“Shouldn't she be like...laying down? Organs crushed and everything?”

“Supersoldier, remember?” She answered Clint with a wink.

“You were thrown out of the building.”

“So?”

“It was three floors tall.”

“Again, so?”

The archer shook his head with a huff.

“Now it's two of you. Oh, I can feel myself growing older. ”

Steve's low chuckle accompanied her as she closed the door behind her, and pretended it was only literal that Rumlow had managed to throw her off her feet.

They arrived at the compound around an hour later and Anya was begrudgingly taken to the medical wing to get checked by a doctor. She did try to resist, but was forced by the lethal force of Natasha's scowls and Steve's puppy eyes.

Thye had briefed the rest of the group on their way there, but still Natalia was pressing her with questions. Questions Anya did not want to answer.

Growing up with a gift at studying people, and with a mother that encouraged it constantly, Anya had time and resources to develop thousands of theories about human behavior; hundreds of reminders of how nature goes beyond borders, and ideologies.

One of her theories went from having to see Matvei's love, who had been fighting in the front himself, being forced to see life without her brother. She knew, because if she was good at something was at protecting the people she loved and of course she ran a search on Traian when Matvei promised her a dress if she didn't tell her parents about his escapades at night; that the former air-force soldier had been lost for three days during one of the last reverberations of the Revolution. She knew of his pain, and yet he was the cheerful one, the one that made her brother smile even against his own will. She had to be the one to give him the news, and considering it would have been too dangerous to send a letter when their relationship would have been -ironically enough- punished by a sentence worse than the one her brother had faced, she boarded the train to Kiev and killed for the first time.

She saw the light leave his eyes, she saw the way his love for her annoying older brother fought with claws and teeth to remain, but at the cost of his own soul. She saw him break.

She saw ruin, not for the first time, and wondered why people bothered with love in a world of pain, knowing the pain of those you loved had the potential to destroy you and keep you standing.

She saw ruin. But then Alexei was taken away from her, and she knew of the kind of pain Traian had gone through. And then she met the stubborn American, and she knew of the love her mother had felt once. She feared the day ruin would become her.

But then Belarus happened, and she was forced to live without half of her soul, then she came back and she saw it die, and now she watched Rumlow stand proudly in the ashes of what once had been.

She feared ruin would take over, because the kind of pain was tearing her apart, it was the same she saw in Traian's eyes when she gave him the news of her brother, the same that took control of her father's body and put the gun in his hand. And for a few paralyzing seconds, she feared ruin, she awaited it.

But ruin did not come. Instead, she became ruination.

She would come for every single one of them, she vowed. She would come for those who dared touch him, for those who dared twist his loyalty and his protectiveness to their gain, for those who turned him into a nightmare, for those who threatened, bent, broke, twisted and burnt. She would come, and she would make sure they knew what true ruin was like.

And maybe, because of the shine in her eyes even she didn't recognize when she faced the mirror in the plane back to the US, was that Natalia would not back down.

“Nothing else?” The redhead questioned, arms crossed and eyes on the blonde before her.

“Besides the bomb?” At her student's narrowed eyes, Anya huffed and shook her head, “Nothing. Creepy message, bomb, evil laughter. But only that.”

“So what are you going to do?”

The smile on the blonde's lips turned cold and vicious in a way that warned Natasha blood was about to gush over Azure's hands soon.

“I'm going to find him. He left a trace behind when he infiltrated the files you put up online. And I know exactly who can help me find him.”

The doctor interrupted them softly from the doorway, smiling kindly and letting the Soviet go with nothing more than an order to rest for at least a few days and a stern glare to induce her to comply. The blonde laughed quietly, but promised she would try.

“What did he tell you, Anya?” Natasha asked, nodding in thanks to the doctor and walking with her former teacher to her room.

The blonde assassin merely faced the girl, jaw set and walls down, and whispered,

“Dostatochnoye.”

Silence settled between them both for a few seconds, but shortly after Natalia's face hardened and with a stiff and curt nod, she asked,

“What of financial traces? The mercenaries must be paid somehow.”

“I don't think Rumlow is in a position to pay in advance.”

“How he contacted them, then?”

“Yes, maybe we'll find something,” She conceded, before turning to her sister and adding, “Thank you, Natalia.”

“No thanks needed.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations (Russian)  
> Dostatochnoye - "Enough"
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed, and let me know what you think in the comments below!!  
> Also, this isn't all -of course- but decided 'Oh, fuck it', you guys deserve it. The last four or so chapters will be up in a while.  
> Btw, in a completely unrelated matter, I'm stressed, homesick even though I'm home, and feeling kinda sad, but I'm fucking happy as hell. Hope you cared to know that, hehe.  
> Love, Luce


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heey, I'm gonna go back to weekly updates for the few chapters that are left, unless I manage to be touched by a muse-angel and write a few chapters on one sitting.  
> Idk, I'm so inconstant with this thing. I'm sorry, you wonderful people.   
> I hope you are still around!  
> Love, Luce

_2014, New York_

Anya narrowed her eyes at the computer, as if willing it to break the security walls of the site quicker.

It had been two weeks of bed rest. That is, they told her she shouldn't go on any missions, because if Rumlow was aware of their steps, it would be too dangerous to send her out on the open.

She tried telling them, repeatedly that she was a spy and an infiltrator, that she was one of the best, that she was a fucking Red Orchestra. They listened, alright, they just didn't care.

She was anxious, restless, and a thousand other words that she probably couldn't translate if she could. She supposed she should feel trapped, but she, oddly enough, did not. She knew they were honestly concerned for her well-being, and they seriously cared about keeping her safe.

Oh, that doesn't mean she hadn't argued. Trust her, she had.

There was screaming, demands, Russian, maybe even a little bit of Romanian thrown in there, just to piss Natalia off. She understood their point, she really did, but she was _pissed_. She wanted Rumlow's blood, and they wouldn't be able to stop her.

But the person they least expected put their foot down and stunning her, earned her respect and her compliance. Anthony Stark.

“ _You are one of us now, girl. We take care of our own, whether they like it or not. I am not saying any of us will try to physically stop you from going on your hunt for blood, but if we have any say in it, you won't.”_

“ _Good. You can't, and I would hate to be forced to show you that.”_

“ _So you will go after him,” Natalia had growled, arms crossed over her chest. She used to do the same thing as a child, Anya thought, before sending that memory back, with all the others that had the potential of finally breaking her soul. “Without any backup.”_

“ _I don't need backup, dear. I was someone before James, you know?”_

“ _Yeah, and so did he, right? Knew everything about you,” The girl screamed, anger and the potential of pain shining in her big eyes, “What do you think they did after they took him, Azure? Or better yet, after they found out you were never their puppet? Did you actually listen to Rumlow!? They know everything about you, because they made Barnes tell them!”_

_Azure didn't realize her teeth were bared in a cruel smile, until Tony's hand on her shoulder shook her out of her dangerous place of mind. She faced his understanding brown eyes with anger and distrust._

“ _Your lives are worth more than Rumlow's death, Anya. You are.”_

It had been the first time Howard's kid used her first name, so she had clenched her jaw, fighting against memories, and nodded her head in understanding.

That, of course, did not mean she was going to stop, it only meant she was going to be more...careful. Hence, she bunked herself into her room and hacked into every server Rumlow could have used. Noah was on his side of the world helping her, and so was Jarvis.

This...not working alone thing, it was comforting, sometimes. Annoying as hell, yes, but also comforting.

A soft knock on her door brought her attention away from the computer, and muttering her permission for them to come in, she sighed and leaned away from the computer in a really weak attempt at pretending she was not anxiously waiting for the firewall to drop.

Steve walked in, a steaming cup of tea on his hands and a soft smile on his face.

He offered her the cup, “Uh, Nat said this was a tea you used to drink when you were...upset.”

She smirked, “Her words?”

“Uhm...no, her words were more like 'pissed off and throwing a tantrum'.”

A small laugh left her lips, relaxing her shoulders and taking the edge off her smile.

She accepted the cup and motioned for him to sit beside her on the bed.

“Found anything yet?”

“Jarvis? No. Everything looks clean on his side.” He answered calmly, before turning to her with his damn worried blue eyes and whispered, “Maybe you should clear your mind from...all this. Rest for a while.”

She sighed, looking down at her cup of tea,

“I can't stop now, Steve, not after...everything.”

His hand somehow had found a place on her shoulder. It bothered her, more than it should.

“I'm not asking you to, just to...take care of yourself.”

She was not trained, you see. Not like the girls, not so...carefully, so methodically. But she did learn, and she did learn that a human in pain resembles an animal with a broken paw more than we are willing to admit. We lash out and fear and hate everything that even attempts to get close, and we hurt everyone around us, just in case they kick us while we are down. She learned, also, that only cowards go for physical torture, that only those who know little go for the knife at the back instead of the carefully placed words, that the body heals, but the mind will always find a way to remember old wounds.

It is a dangerous thing, to know both facts.

She shrugged off his hand roughly, the words leaving her lips before her heart could get a chance to stop her.

“Only because you gave up on him doesn't mean I will.”

He recoiled so quickly she doesn't think she would have noticed if she wasn't a...mutant. His eyes became steel, his shoulders tight and his breathing calm even when the muscle in his jaw told her of how she had affected him.

The voice in her head, the one that sounded a lot like a little redhead with pink toenails, scolded her.

_He doesn't deserve that. You are fucking up because you are scared and angry._

With a deep breath, she stood up and, facing the wall, whispered,

“I'm sorry, Steve.”

“Anya?”

_I'm surprised too,_ she wanted to say, but the stuck in her throat, the memories choking her and forcing her weakness out for him to see. Shameful, really.

“I'm sorry.” She whispered, her eyes closed tightly.

Steve took a step closer to her, his entire demeanor different from that of the Captain, now back at the boy from Brooklyn who believed in being a good person above all else.

“What's wrong?”

Anya shook her head, platinum blond strands of her hair falling from her ponytail, contouring her face. Her eyes still tightly shut, she repeated,

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left Natalia alone, I'm sorry all those people are dead because of what I did, I'm sorry I left James behind. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I...”

Strong arms were wrapped around her, and though her own were trapped against him, she did not mind, or could not bring herself to mind; and rested her forehead on his beating heart as her chest heaved, and heaved, and heaved...

“Hey, it's okay...” Steve kept whispering, a soothing hand caressing her back. “You are okay.”

For a master liar, she fell too easily for that one.

__

_2013, Sao Pablo, Brazil_

Her eyes avoided his, a small frown set over her features as her jaw clenched at the anger at her own memories and her own past doings.

A voice too alike her mother's kept asking what she was thinking when she dragged him into it, when she didn't press the trigger when her gun was on his forehead as he slept, bandages over his missing arm, cold tracing his skin, settling over his eyelashes.

She wondered, not for the first time, if this was what Steve Rogers had felt when he crashed that plane, when he gave up his life to save his world. She wondered, if this was what peace felt like.

“I know what you are thinking.” Noah deadpanned, bringing a sly smile on the girl's face.

“Do you now?”

“It's not going to solve anything, Anya.”

“Really?”

“Don't play coy,” He snapped, but she didn't lose her smile. “You know this is suicide.”

“Good thing that my grave has been laid long ago, then.”

__

She doesn't remember how long she stays in the warm cocoon of his arms, trying to breathe past the pain and the memories.

He didn't say anything, and she was thankful for that. She did not want words to make that moment real, because being that weak in the real world meant losing not only the fight, but the war. It meant proving them right, all of those people that had sneered at her, that had walked past her without a second glance, it meant proving she really needed the man she left behind, it meant that she really didn't trust him as much as he her, and it meant that it really was her worst mistake.

When her breathing came back to its regular pace, and her eyes were not forced to be shut so tight, Steve's hand stopped its pace up and down her spine as his voice whispered,

“What do you need?”

She answered without hesitating, even though she knew he could not fulfill her wish.

“I want to go home.”

__

Anya woke up the next day with a groan, dreading the aftershocks of the previous day's...misstep. But before her shame could set in, the door to her bedroom was softly knocked on.

In her SHIELD t-shirt and with ruffled blonde hair, she opened, only realizing later that she should have checked for drool on her face after she faced Steve's awake and shining fucking face.

“G'morning.” She muttered, one hand rubbing her eye as the other held the door open.

“Good morning,” He greeted with a smile.

_He should smile less on mornings. Who smiles that much in the morning? Is there something wrong with him? Is it an after-effect of the serum that I didn't get?_

Steve continued, oblivious to her internal rant against his light.

“I was...thinking, about what you said yesterday.”

That surely woke her up.

“You were?”

“Yes.”

A small bundle of red hair and a smirk brushed past the Captain, walking into her room with ease.

“Rise and fucking shine, dear _sonya_. We're going to Russia.”

With quickly packed bags and a few smiles from the rest of the team, the three parted towards Moscow.

Anya hid a smile as she watched Steve drive the car calmly, heading towards the airport as if their billionaire friend did not have a parked jet on his rooftop. Still, they wanted to make the trip as...traditional as possible, so they were driving towards the airport where Tony's plane waited for them.

Strangely domestic, this thing. Still, Anya did not mind.

“So...” Natalia started, and by the tone of her raspy voice, Anya knew that she meant trouble, “Are you two a thing or is it a popsicles-with-benefits kind of arrangement? 'Cause I don't see many...benefits, I just see you two acting like an old married couple.”

“We _are_ old, Natalia.”

The redhead groaned at her words, 

“Oh, not this again.”

This prompted a smile out of Steve, who jokingly asked, 

“Again?”

“Yeah. She would go full on 'you-are-too-young-Natalia back then when she and Barnes had a secret,” Natasha confessed, rubbing a hand over her face, hiding a wince at the realization she then added, “I think now it usually involved them shagging in some corner the girls and I didn't know of.”

“Do you have to say it like that?” Her teacher complained, trying to ignore the way the smile on the man next to her dimmed at the reminder of his best friend and the life he had had and knew nothing of.

“How do you want me to say it?”

“Getting away from your annoying ass would be a correct way of wording it.”

“You know what, Anya...?”

She never finished her sentence, the explosion taking away all words except for one terrified scream,

“ _Natalia!_ ”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love to hear our thoughts!! Pretty please :)  
> Love, Luce


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey, amazing people.  
> Okay, next chap will be up by December 26-7.  
> Hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think!  
> Love, Luce.

_2014, Outskirts of New York_

Strong arms were wrapped around her, taking her away from the flames.

And her sister.

She screamed, kicked and clawed at those arms, trying to get back, smoke-filled lungs wasting their air in heartbroken screams of a single name.

“Anya, settle down!”

“No!” She twisted in his arms, and still the hold did not falter. With a growl, she begged, “James, let me go! _Nu, vă rog!_ ”

She stumbled away from now lifeless hands, ignoring the burn in her eyes, the pressure in her heart that begged her to just _run_ before she was forced to lose again. She ignored the smell of burnt flesh and the hiss of her own skin surrendering to the flames still around them.

She ignored her memories, she ignored who she was, because it all told her to give up, told her there was no other way for this to end. She ignored, probably for the first time, the voice that sounded so alike her mother's, that berated her for caring, and instead heard the little redheaded girl in Belarus, that called her a sister and painted her nails pink.

She ignored everything but Natalia.

And she heard her.

The faint wet cough, the ruffling of clothes against the ground, the muffled groans of pain.

A borderline-hysterical laugh left Anya's lips, and she hurried to the broken window of the car, taking a hold of the door and ripping it off its hinges. With a sigh and a few murmured words in Russian, she got her sister out, cradling her broken body against her as her eyes, for the first time since the missile hit them, searched for the enemy.

Seeing only chaos, cars stopped in the middle of the highway, people screaming and the faint sounds of someone assuring them help was on the way, Anya let out a stuttering breath against Natasha's forehead, breathing a kiss over her head, and closed her eyes.

“It was on the roof.” Natasha croaked, green eyes staring back at hers with a strength Anya knew she herself wouldn't have if having been nearly struck with a missile.

“What?”

“Whoever shot at us, they were on the roof of the buildin' in the southwest.”

The blonde shook her head.

“It does not matter now. Just...”

“'re you goin' to tell me to rest, Anya?” Her sister coughed, a faint smile on soot-and-blood-riddled lips.

“No, don't rest. I don't want to be alone when the medics arrive.” She joked, tears dancing in her eyes as a bloody hand reached out and brushed her sister's hair off her face.

Natalia huffed what could have been a laugh as her eyes closed, “Coward.”

The redhead's breathing hitched once, twice, and then stopped.

“Natalia?” Anya whispered, a hysterical tone creeping into her voice, “Natalia! _Sestra, prosnut'sya_!”

There were steps behind her. For a second, she did not want to care, but Anya reached out to take out the 10mm silenced pistol from her sister's ankle and pointed it at the body behind her.

“Step back. Let the war continue on another day.”

“Anya, it's me. Dr. Cho's team is here. They'll take her on a quinjet to U-GIN.”

“Who the fuck is Dr. Cho, and why do you even think I am letting her go with you?” She snarled back, although lowering her weapon and turning her face so her profile would face the Captain.

His voice was steel as he answered, “I am not giving you a choice.”

She hissed a cruel laugh, “Better men have tried the same, dear.”

Her attention was diverted from the blond soldier as a few people in white coats approached them.

Anya swallowed past her fear, past her _instinct,_ and nodded at them, fighting against the cold that took over her body as they carried her sister like a broken doll to their plane. 

She turned to the Captain. 

She tried not to miss the constant presence of the redhead. She tried to ignore the push to follow these people to the quinjet. She tried to forget that now more than ever she missed the shadow guarding her back, the cold hand squeezing her hip in secret, the full lips curving into a smile even though the eyes spoke of a war she knew little of.

She tried to go back to who she was, or who she pretended to be, back when she first entered the Avenger's building merely months before. She tried to ignore that not only she had changed when that dysfunctional group took her in as one of their own, but she had been given a heart, even after losing her own to the four graves in Russia, too many winters ago in a decaying prison in Austria.

Forcing her voice to be steady, she rasped,

“I guess the trip to Moscow is canceled?

Steve took a step ahead, a hand between them. Yesterday, -hell, even a few hours ago- she would have let him reach her, comfort her. But she remembered now, when the storm was gone, that it was not his arms she felt around her when she realized the fire was not touching her anymore, it was not his name she screamed as she begged for a chance at not losing everything again.

So Anya took a step back, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“I guess it's not that bad. Where does life take us now, Captain?”

The smile on her face faltered at the pain in his baby blue eyes. Not pain because of what she had done to him, to her, to everyone else, but pain  _for_ her. 

What kind of world let a man like him lose everything so many times? Her, she gets it, karma kinda works that way. But Steve? Losing Bucky so many times she did not want to count, losing his life for the war, regaining it to know it was so much more that he had lost. His love, his world, his friends.

What kind of world allowed this to happen to him? To James? To the girl Natalia had been once?

But the blond still smiled at her kindly, 

“South Korea.”

__

_2014, Seoul, South Korea_

It had been nearly three days now. Three days of the kind -and frighteningly smart- doctor sleeping less than three hours and her team six, three days of the same white walls and the same beeping machines.

Three days to force Natalia's body not to give up.

Anya did not actually believe Helen when she walked out of the room and promised them the spy was stable and that now the minor and superficial wounds were being tended to by her 'cradle'. She did not believe it.

She was scared of how sure she was of Natasha's demise. How sure, like a prisoner waiting for the axe to swing, she was that everything would be over soon.

She vaguely heard Banner asking the young doctors plenty of questions, Stark's sigh and the sound of his body hitting the seats, Barton's choked sob of relief as he raked his hands through his short hair.

She sat numbly in her chair, her hands trembling uncontrollably and her throat hurting from how strongly she was holding on to the last verge of her strength.

__

_2013, Moscow, Russia_

Red tulips were placed by a glove-covered hand over a row of four old graves, a sad smile on bright red lips.

“Why so predictable, Azure?”

“Why so foolish, Brock?” She hissed back, the sniper on the nearby roof taking the American down with a single shot when she stood up from her crouched position over her mother's grave. She turned around, vibranium-alloy knife on her hand, and approached the injured man. Teasing his skin just enough to draw blood over the cheekbone, she teased, “Missed me, boy?”

She wasn't the best spy and infiltrator alive for nothing. She knew her snipe would have already backed off by now, and at least five elite soldiers were brought with Rumlow to take her down. So why this display, you may ask? Oh, because she had a bit of an unresolved deal with the dark-haired man.

He eyed her with a hard glare, “Welcome back, bitch.”

She faked a sweet laugh, “Now, that's no way of talking to family, is it Brock? After all, I'm all you have left,” At the fear in his eyes that for a second she pretended to try and hide, she added with a smile, “Selina surely had beautiful eyes, didn't she?”

He growled in anger, pain, and grief, trying to stand up and hit her, but her knife on his throat stopped him.

“Stay, boy.”

__

_2014, Seoul, South Korea_

Anya stepped out of the shower, civilian clothes sliding over now freshened skin.

Her phone suddenly light up, and the blonde picked up with a sigh,

“Noah, dear, I appreciate your call, but now it's not the best...”

“I found him, Anya.”

A part of her wanted to gear up and go on her hunt for blood, but that part was also the one that broke her own heart to keep the proud redhead now on the hospital bed safe in Belarus, so she pressed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger, sighing,

“Rumlow can wait for tomorrow, Noah, I...”

“Not Rumlow. I found Barnes, Anya.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger, hehe.  
> Translation:   
> "Nu, vă rog!" (Romanian) -- "No, I beg you!"   
> "Sestra, prosnut'sya!" (Russian) -- "Sister, wake up!"
> 
> Love you all, and I hope you have a wonderful Holiday Season, or if you don't celebrate it, a great New Year!!  
> Comments and kudos make me squeal like a seal.   
> Love, Luce.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update everyone!  
> I know this is kinda short but I wanted to keep whats coming all in one chapter.   
> Hope you had a great start of 2018!!  
> Love, Luce

_2013, Moscow, Russia_

As she faced the man she had dreamt about killing for over a decade, on his knees before her, Anya considered the option of killing him, disposing of his four or five men -it shouldn't be too hard- and just giving up the tirade and go to Siberia by herself.

She looked back at his pained brown eyes, and felt her hand tremble with the desire to move her wrist and slit his throat.

“Remember the last time I was in Siberia with you, Brock?” She smiled, and ignored the stupid soldier that stepped ahead to protect his leader. “Remember what it felt like, with my hand in your throat, your blood gushing over my fingers?

He stayed silent, because of course he did. So she showed him her best smile, the one she had only shown once, when she found the man responsible for Alexei's dispatch to the suicide mission in Smolensk, and watched him bleed out on his bed, terrified eyes looking at her for salvation when all he could see was the satisfaction of ending that selfish bastard.

She smiled, and continued, “That's what Selina woke up to. My hand around her throat, my nails piercing her skin. Her blood is still painting her little apartment in Berlin, in case you were wondering.”

She saw him break. And never had she felt so powerful before.

Rumlow growled, trying again to launch against her, only this time he didn't stop when her knife teased his skin. Ready to slice his neck, Azure did not see the soldier near her raising his rifle and firing a single shot into her right shoulder.

Icy blue eyes turned on the supidly brave agent, she changed the vibranium-alloy knife to her left hand and threw it so it embedded itself on the man's chest.

Before she knew it, though, Anya's back was hitting her own tombstone, the deep pain of the echo of Rumlow's fist on her sternum still taking away her breath. His hand grabbed a fistful of platinum-blonde hair, lifting her face to his own, twisted by grief and anger.

“No one but me knows you came here, girl. I can kill you without a second thought.”

“But you won't.” She argued with a smile.

The barrel of is 10mm was pressing against her forehead and for a second, a small and terrifying second, she thought he would pull the trigger.

“Why do you think that, babygirl?”

Movement behind them. Rumlow lifted his eyes, his gun still threatening a bullet between her eyes.

“Because you were ordered to bring her alive.” The Winter Soldier answered.

__

_2014, Seoul, South Korea_

One, two, three seconds passed before she answered.

Her voice, although she would deny it to her grave, was that of the cliché girl with red, red lips, that fell in love with a charming soldier of unending eyes, that of someone on the verge of having it all but oh so used to losing it over and over again that hope resisted her heart.

“Y-You did?”

“Yes, Elena sent me the tip and I found him.”

“Elena?”

There was a hand on her waist, but Anya didn't bother to turn around, lifting a hand to silence what she supposed was Stark or Barton offering to get her something from the cafeteria.

But a voice by her ear took her attention away from Noah.

“Should've known you'd keep that one close to your chest.” Brock murmured by her ear.

“Trying your last chance at finding a man that even forgetting his own name, is ten times the man you could ever wish to be?” She snickered back, spite in her tone even though the proximity of this...man -calling him human burned her even now- to her unconscious sister set the hairs in the back of her neck straight.

“Not at all, Anya,” He answered, in one of the only times she had heard her given name come from his lips. Somehow, that managed to set her off even more. His mouth hovered near her phone and he spoke, “Go on, Rivero. Sing.”

“Barnes is in Romania, Azure. Brasov, specifically.”

“What else.” She deadpanned, cold dread settling on the pit of her stomach as the oh so familiar taste of treason burned her like acid form the inside. She wondered if it hurt like this when she turned her back to all those people of her past.

“He's there as a civilian. And there are mercenaries crawling through town. Interpol about to be notified of his location. Clearly outnumbered.”

A sick, hidden part of her wanted to hear it all, wanted to know how much Rumlow paid him, how easy it was to buy his betrayal of a man that did nothing to him. She wanted to hear, and she wanted to chant it all back to the boy as she broke each and every bone in his body.

“Who notified those mercenaries, Emanuel?” She hissed through clenched teeth.

“I did. And I will be the one to notify the Interpol if you don't comply, Azure.”

The line went dead.

“He has been ours since Siberia, girl,” Rumlow said, answering the question she did not dare ask, “Since _I killed you._ ”

“And I assume you want to finish the job?”

He laughed under his breath, the raspy sound of his sick delight sending a chill down her spine. As he guided her silently to Natasha's room, she wondered when the cold became her weakness, when did a girl with hair like fire and a man looking for a life away from the ice managed to make her yearn the warmth of life once again.

Once the door was locked and their only company the silenced redhead, Anya looked up to find the face of an unknown man. A soldier, dark hair, green eyes staring back at her.

Rumlow's voice spoke again, as if he were standing in front of her, even though the man's lips did not move.

_He sent a puppet in his place. Coward._

“Oh, but not here, dear girl,” He crooned, nd the soldier in front of her remained impasive. “I want you to come back home. You have 12 hours to get to your grave, _Doll_.”

“You are planning an execution.” She hissed, her mouth twisted in a grimace.

“I am planning on giving you what you deserve. 12 hours, or the Interpol and my men are on Barnes before he can even try to make a run for it.”

The soldier nodded once in goodbye, and proceded out of the door within seconds.

Anya was left with a dying sister, a lost friend, and a choice to make.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think Anya will do? How do you feel about Noah's actions?  
> Would love to hear your thoughts!!  
> And, as always, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed.  
> Love, Luce.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I happy with this? Idk, it's too mushy for my liking, but staring at it with my eyes narrowed wasn't going to help matters.   
> Sooo, here you go.

_2013, Moscow, Russia_

Rumlow's brown eyes narrowed at the soldier behind her.

“Silence.” He commanded, forcing a laugh out of Azure's throat. At her mocking, Rumlow growled, taking his eyes away from the Soldat and his gun away from her face.

Pointing at her thigh, he shot once, two times.

Anya registered the sound of an assault rifle's safety clicking off and a barked warning in heavily accented Russian before the pain hit her.

Oh, but when it did.

Face contorting in pain, one hand going uselessly to her thigh in an attempt to stop the bleeding and the crawling agony through her leg.

Rumlow had let her go, though, and was now standing a few feet from her, jaw clenched but hands risen in defeat. His remaining three men pointed their guns at the Soldat and, stupidly enough, ignored her.

Lifting her handgun with her left hand, she shot them easily, aiming for their chests instead of their heads as her vision blurred and the bloodloss threatened her aim. They fell, and Rumlow turned equally angry and afraid eyes to her.

“Now end this display and take me home, dog.” She sneered, eyes on the man before her. His fists convulsed for an instant, but his cruel facade stayed on.

“In a hurry, Azure?”

“Well yes, considering you, you blind fuck, hit the artery on my leg.”

Frankly, it scared her how cold her voice sounded, how detached, as if Siberia's cold, awaiting her return, had already seeped into her soul, making her what she had been: their perfect soldier.

__

_2014, Seoul, South Korea._

Anya remembers wondering, back when the first War had gone by, far enough for the smell of death not to cloud people's hearts, but close enough for them to feel the heat, how could it be, that people talked about 'love', her parents included, when we are so naturally selfish. With stories of  _trus,_ and their weak moves, their brothers falling beside them and the uncaring glances upon death and suffering itself; she understood the true nature of humans. With stern glances, whispered stories of the weakness of the flesh and of how easily it was to whisper promises of love to a man and get him to do your will, and advice to last a lifetime in two centuries from her mother; she understood nothing comes before oneself, not even love. Especially not love.

Sitting down on one of the chairs in Natalia's room, she lowers her head, letting platinum-blonde hair cover her face as her chest grows hollow at the choices before her.

A long lost promise, a self-fulfilling prophecy repeats itself in her head with extraordinary ease.

_War has got its eyes on you, Anushka._

However, a sad smile, a long, manicured finger tapping into her heart, and a buried answer to the brand of fire over her soul, force their way out of her hidden memories, whispering a single promise:

_But so does Love. Be careful with the power you wield._

Anya remembers the last time she saw her mother alive. The last moment her mother would have wanted her to remember, she assumed once, was their heartfelt goodbye, and not the eavesdropped conversation between a former Night Witch and a Russian General.

Now she knows better. Now she knows that maybe her mother, in all her wisdom, predicted the small bare feet following her uniform-clad form to their living room, where a heartbroken man awaited the sentence that would take his love away from him.

Now she knows that love, love is rarer -and stronger, scarier- than people seem to think.

Because she knows humans are selfish, easily afraid and liars, she does. She knows it is human nature to preserve oneself, to assure your own happiness before considering someone else's.

She knows that, but she knows something else.

_Mama dropped the duffel bag in front of the shadowed man sitting in the chair with hunched shoulders and carefully controlled breathing._

“ _The kids are asleep,” She whispered, a grunt being the only indication he heard her. The blonde woman sighed, and crossed the room to crouch in front of her husband. “I have to do this.”_

_Pale eyes rose to meet a determined and yet soft gaze, and he whispered,_

“ _You don't. I could go in your place. I want to.”_

_One slender hand rose to his cheek._

“ _Because you love me,” Her mother whispered, not really a question in her voice._

“ _Nade-”_

_She interrupted him with a soft noise,_

“ _You have loved me for a long time, my dear. You have loved me. It is time I love you, it is time I love_ them _. That is why I have to go, that is why the choice is not yours this time. Because I love you more than I love myself.”_

_He remained silent, and the woman before him got ready to stand up again, before his voice stopped her._

“ _Then stay and hate us, leave us.”_

_Anya could see her broken smile even in the darkness of the room and their hearts._

“ _Oh love, can't you see that even though I take the choice from you now, you took it from me long ago?”_

_A choked sound left the man's chest, painful and broken. The silence stretched, the two soldiers facing one another in what they knew was the last time. Anya could feel her mother's urge to hide in his arms, her father's desire to take her in them and not let go. They didn't move, though, maybe because they too knew that there was no chance but to let go at the end._

_A resigned smile adorned rough lips._

“ _When?”_

“ _When you took my heart. When you_ loved me _, a long time ago.”_

Anya blinked past the memories clouding her eyes when she heard her name being called in a raspy voice.

Natalia's green eyes stared back at hers and Anya knew. Anya knew what made all those stories, what made all those exceptions to the instinct of preservation. Anya knew what turned people like her into something else, into someone else. Someone not only able and willing, but someone who did actually give up her identity for her brother, her sanity, her love for her sisters.

And someone who would give up her life for James's.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anya's mom's name? Nadezhda, in case you were wondering, hehe.
> 
> Aanyways, what do you think? Do you hate it? Love it? 'Meh' it?  
> Would love to hear your thoughts.  
> Love, Luce.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck I'm back. Heyyy  
> Not much more to say, really. Two or three chaps up in these few days and then another week or so until I post the ending.   
> Love, Luce.

_2014, Bucheon, South Korea_

“I always knew you were full of shit.”

The blonde suppressed a smile, switching gears as she approached the intersection. Through her sunglasses, she stole a glance to the small screen from which Elena decided to berate her life choices with a scowl and well-placed sass.

“Thank you, girl.”

“I'm serious,” She insisted, “All that rambling on and on about how 'we go first' when you were training us? Bullshit. All that talk about how we are all selfish by nature?”

“Let me guess...” Anya started, pearly teeth shining through red lips.

“Bullshit.” They said, to which Elena continued, “Yeah, cause here you are, handing your neck to the world's craziest asshole, all for your cuddle-buddy from the forties.”

The blonde laughed, she couldn't not.

“I don't know about Rumlow being the world's _craziest_ asshole. Definitely top ten, though.”

“I'm being serious here, Anya. You are...you know you will not walk out.”

__

_2013, Siberia_

Anya rests her head on the fastly-beating heart beneath her ear, closing her eyes and telling herself she is not scared of the outcome, be it that she gets to the facility alive or not.

There's a fog surrounding her, the voices mingling together, mixing and breaking until all she makes out are barked orders in a language she hadn't heard in a while, beats of silence as response, and a few pained grunts before the cool hand is once again in her own as the doctors wheel her to the room full of light.

____

_2014, Bucheon, South Korea_

“I know.”

“So, no backup plan? No double-crossing? No...no way out?” She hated how the young girl's voice broke at the end, hated how she was vulnerable enough to care for her old teacher...or at least, the part of her used to lying to herself hated her. The other part, the part that was beating and raw as she drove towards Incheon's Airport was oh so proud of Elena, for being more than she could ever hope to be, for the spark in her eyes and the untainted heart.

“I can't risk him, Elena,” And after a beat, “I'm sorry.”

The girl closed her dark eyes, two tears making their way down her cheeks. After a few breaths, she opened them again, a new softness in them that the blonde, with her eyes on the road, missed.

“You really love him, don't you?”

A watery smile struggled to form on her lips.

“I guess I do.” She huffed.

Elena stayed silent for a few minutes, but Anya knew she hadn't hung up. It was not of her girl to leave someone alone when they were driving to their own death, she was too light for that.

Then, she spoke, sounding more like the lost girl in Belarus than she ever did since James had found her parents.

“What about Natasha?”

Lifting her chin, she assured, she knew not if Elena or herself, “They will make sure she is taken care of, I know.”

The girl nodded, but still questioned, “You are just...leaving, then?”

“Yes.”

A beat, two, and Elena whispered.

“I'm sorry.”

“For what, girl?”

“For telling Noah about Barnes. I should have...I should have told you first, I shouldn't have...”

“I trusted him, too, girl. I would have told him myself if not you.”

“Still, maybe we could've...”

Anya interrupted her again, a faint smile on her lips, her eyes shining with the rare glint of the wisdom her years gave her, “We cannot know how the 'other way' may have resulted, only that this way, I have more choice than I expected, than I deserve.”

“Anya...you are going to your own execution.”

“Yes, I am. But for the first time, I'm choosing someone else over me,” She shrugged, and with forced levity added, “If that doesn't earn me Heaven I don't know what does.”

The dark-haired girl chuckled, “You were an assassin for over seventy years, Anya.”

“Yes, but I'm also quite cute. Maybe I can cut a good deal for myself.”

“I...I don't think it works that way.”

“You never know, dear, you never know.” She answered with a smile, though her hand trembled a little as she took it from the wheel to switch to second.

There was a certain peace of knowing your end was approaching, Anya was not denying it, especially after seventy-something years of living with the knowledge of how to kill and make it hurt, but she was not in the mood to lie to herself any longer either: she was terrified. Bone-deep fear, mind-numbing regret, paralyzing anger, no emotion seemed to settle within her, all choosing to destabilize her and torture her with the thought of not only what had been, but what would be and what never was.

But despite all that fear, all that anger and all that deep longing for _more_ , she was at peace.

She had died too many times, enough to know this peace wouldn't leave her when her breath hitched, wouldn't turn into desperation, into bloodied hands grabbing at the unknown for a chance at staying. She had died enough times to know this time, this time it was it.

 


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ  
> Hey, just a heads-up: This chapter will deal with the topic of suicide and assisted suicide within the context of it as a practice pertaining to the espionage world. If you are uncomfortable reading about such topics, I think you can skip the whole italicized part and still get a pretty much all-together idea of what the story there is.  
> Anyways, hope you enjoy.  
> Love, Luce.

_2014, Over Kazakhstan_

The blonde ran her fingertips over the worn paper of the letter envelope, giving herself a few more hours to remember.

No one had to know she was weak at the end, did they?

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she took it out to see a simple message from an untraceable number:

_Anya, I am sorry. -E_

She smiled, shaking her head to herself at the foolishness of Elena. There was no way she could blame her for what had happened, but the girl seemed hell-bent on berating her own choices. And criticizing that, coming from Anya, was saying something.

She had already given all the information on the Soldat, Rumlow, and what remained of Hydra to the one person who she could trust with both the intelligence to keep the cards close to their chest and the respect for her choice to not try to stop her.

She approached the cockpit, lay a hand on the pilot's shoulder and murmured,

“I'm going to doze off. Report any unusual activity to me, and wake me before landing,” He nodded once, dark eyes in the sky ahead of them; prompting her to add, “Thank you, Anthony.”

“Anytime, kiddo. I could still create a distraction while...”

“I know. I know, but...”

The billionaire took his eyes off the screens, turning in his seat to stare at her, “To much at stake?”

She huffed a laugh, “Something like that.”

__

Anya was lacing her boots as Tony approached the small airport, looking over her shoulder at the brown-haired man.

“Any unusual movement?”

“Not really. JARVIS reported at least a dozen soldiers entering the city with Rumlow, so it seems he thinks you are bringing in backup.”

She smiled, “Well, I'm glad to disappoint.”

The billionaire chuckled, mumbling something along the lines of “my kind of woman”, and gave Anya the keys to the car she would take once he left her in the airport so she could get to the small cemetery in Moscow where her family's graves were set.

When the doors of the plane opened, Anya took a deep breath.

“Good luck, kiddo.”

“Thanks, Tony. Take care of them for me, will ya? You have a hell of a team on your hands.”

He nodded, a smile firmly put in place even though Anya could see the tightened eyes, the clenched fists. The man refusing to let someone go without a fight.

__

_2013, Siberia_

Anya opened her eyes to see the man she had dreamed of killing sitting next to her on the hospital bed, waiting for her awakening.

“Pierce.” She stated after swallowing silently a few times to try and clear her dry throat.

His eyes rose from the book on his lap, “Well, hello, girl. Here I thought you weren't waking up after all.”

“Don't lie, Director. We're both too old for that.”

“Oh, but I'm not. The poison you injected on yourself after Rumlow took you to the facility? A smart trick girl, but you should've known we wouldn't let you go so easy.”

Poison?

The whisper of an old promise reached Anya through the fog in her mind.

_Lohmer dispatched her with a flick of his wrist, and Anya swallowed down her fear. It would not be long now._

_The Soldat was incredibly effective, even without her. Her presence was a mere liability, or worse, a weakness. It was the logical thing to do._

_She knew that, she did. But knowing did not make the vice stop squeezing the air from her lungs._

_So she snuck into the main storage room, where they kept the files on the initial procedures Hydra tried on their agents. Lithe fingers swept over the codenames: Leviathan, Winter Soldier Program, Valkyrie. Finally, she found the manuscript about the introduction of new agents during the second war._

The use of a fast-acting potassium cyanide poison will stop the heart within minutes, following brain death under the same spectrum of time. The pill will be given to the agents after a surgical procedure to have it replace a molar, and the-...

_The blonde left the room with a new purpose, and after barking an order to the medical staff, using Doctor Zola as her excuse for the strange request, she barged into the room where they kept James after missions, dismissing his two guards with a lift of her eyebrow when they remained around for a few seconds too long._

_The air was still too thin, her hands still refused to stop trembling, and the pit in her stomach fueled by the fear in her veins would not stop growing, but Anya still took a step ahead._

_The brown-haired man lifted his head to look at her, forcing her to pretend not to see the demons lurking behind the grey eyes of the man she loved, forcing her to pretend not to know the way each mission, each day, each_ hour _chips away at his soul, at his self, at his_ memory.  _She pretends, because they have no other chance._

_Especially if he agrees with her now._

“ _I told you about my brother, Matvei, once,” He nods, once but remains silent. With a deep breath she started, “You know I was the one to tell the one he left behind about his fate, and I...”_

_Anya's words died on her throat at the way James' features quickly hardened, at the way he was suddenly wary of her intent, no longer the man that trusted her with his life from a few seconds ago._

“ _Where are you going with this, Ann?” He bit out, grey eyes searching her own, eyebrows raised, jaw set._

_He knew what she would ask of him. She knew he would not say no._

_And they both knew it would kill him._

“ _There's going to be a capsule with aconitine on the underside of my bracers,” She lifted the leather cuff in the air in front of them, and when his eyes shut closed tight, as if not seeing the small pocket already designed for the suicide pill would make the mere idea of it go away, Anya took another step ahead, laying the same hand that showed him the method of her destruction on his cheek. Abandoning all pretense of remaining stoic, professional at the face of what could be the end of everything, she whispered, “They're going to push me aside sooner or later, James. I do not want them to have me at their mercy.”_

_He shook his head again, eyes still closed stubbornly._

“ _No, I can...”_

“ _You can do nothing, because this is neither your choice or your fault. The only thing you can do is respect my choice, and aid me if I ever need you too.”_

_Red-rimmed eyes opened and met her own, a determination behind the pain that Anya admired above all else._

“ _No. You cannot...I will not kill you, doll. I can't.”_

“ _You won't. You will protect me, James, you-...” She started, trying to get closer to him again when he stood up and paced a few feet away from her in the small room, hands in his hair._

“ _No! Anya, that is not something that you can ask of me. My answer is no.”_

_Anger flared within her. Maybe not at him, but he became the one thing standing between her and peace at the moment, so she hissed._

“ _So you'd rather let them have their way with me when I am no longer of use, and...”_

“ _They will not hurt you, Ann,” He sighed, metal hand stretched between them. A peace offering. She took it, and he brought her closer, laying a whisper of a kiss on her lips, “They'll have to go through me to do that.”_

_Azure stared at their superiors dead in the eye when they asked her about the Soldat making obvious and near-fatal mistakes on his missions, and told them she knew nothing of it._

_She clenched her jaw and bit back tears at the few 'corrective practices' Lohmer tried on the Soldat, and when she was back at her stubborn man's side, she hid behind a smile and soothing words the truth of the pill still on her bracer._

Anya looked back at Pierce's eyes, and did the only thing she could. She lied.

She lied, and ignored the way her skin pricked at the man's words, and tried to swallow down the awful feeling of that certainty of her finale, and tried to forget that her Soldat had deemed her death at his hand more merciful than whatever was expecting her once Pierce ended his charade.

 


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii, I'm alive! Sorry for the horrible delay in uploads, but life and college have been hectic. I've started a little recess a few days ago, and I managed to get this chapter where I wanted it.   
> Hope you enjoy, and I promise to try to upload more often till I get this done!  
> Love, Luce.

_2014, Moscow, Russia_

Anya walked by the small flowers stand, and bought five red tulips. Sunglasses on her face, short platinum-blonde hair hiding most of her features, and a long coat helping her become one more of the regular people going about their days, visiting a loved one's grave.

She saw a man casually sitting near the stand lift his eyes to her, and quickly press his hand to his ear, talking lowly in a language she did not recognize -a German dialect, maybe?-. She took a deep breath and faced the cemetery's doors.

Rumlow would be waiting for her to get inside, waiting to drop an ambush on her.

Foolish, really, to think she would fight back now of all times.

When she entered the pavilion for her family's remains, a gloved hand was at her back.

“Miss Ludkov, if you will.” The soldier gestured at a simple dark grey car a few feet away from them. She boarded silently, but not before placing for the first time a red tulip on the ground and sweeping a gloved hand over the name;

_Anya Ludkov, 1920-1946_

_Beloved sister, daughter, and Valiant Servicewoman of the Soviet Union._

Rumlow was not in the car, though, and that veered the blonde a little off her course. He must've been planning a spectacle of her death, if he didn't take the chance to end her like she had ended the German girl he was so fond of in the nineties.

His restraint made Anya oddly proud of his strength.

They were fastly getting away from the cemetery and towards the lowly frequented highway. They were near a bridge she remembers hearing about on the radio news as a child when Anya realized that he planned on taking her off Moscow.

Fighting past the urge to demand to know where she was being taken, she focused back on the way the American went through with the operation. She would've expected his men to have some sort of backup in another car, or even Rumlow himself, monitoring the procedure.

She did not expect the SUV that T-boned them and turned the car over itself, prompting a truck she hadn't realized was Rumlow's stop and disembark at least a dozen soldiers, and Brock himself.

Anya broke the glass and quickly climbed out of the crashed car. Turning her gaze to the SUV that collided with them, Anya saw the flash of red hair and the three-colored shield and heard Rumlow's voice bellowing from behind her.

“I thought I told you no games, Azure!”

She turned fearful eyes to the man in the mask, “There is none! They were not supposed to be here!”

The first shot rang out, and too many to count followed short after. At least three of the soldiers fell quickly down, and when two charged towards the redhead from the back, Azure ran towards them, stopping the first by sending her legs beneath him and shooting him with his own rifle and the second by few well-placed shots with his teammate's former weapon.

When she saw Steve finish off a few men on his way and come towards her and her sister she intercepted him, hands on his forearm, eyes on his and voice trembling,

“You have to get out of here, Steve, please. I-I have to do this, there's no other...”

She was interrupted by a metal hand closing around her throat, cutting off her air and dragging her back.

“I'm done with your lies, Azure!” Rumlow yelled, and when she lifted her head, she saw the burnt skin on his face twisted around an unhinged expression, as his metal armor continued to creep over his arm and settle on his shoulder, near his neck.

“They are not-I didn't tell them to come, I swear!” She rasped, nails clawing uselessly over the steel.

Rumlow stopped, and let her fall to the ground, brown eyes set on her as he took out his phone.

“I. Don't. Care.” He growled, turning his attention to the person on the other side of the line and hissing, “I'm doing it here, you got the feed?”

Meanwhile, the blonde took her eyes to Steve and Natasha, the latter whom was still struggling against Rumlow's men's hold, even with their guns aimed at her head.

Anya's phone vibrated again, and she took it out carefully and read the simple text from an untraceable number:

_I couldn't stay silent. I hope you understand. -E._

Elena. She was the reason Natalia and Steve had tracked her down. That foolish, kind-hearted girl. Anya squeezed her eyes closed, begging whatever wanted to hear her that the one girl she didn't break would get out of this untouched.

A sudden explosion brought her out of the reverie Elena's message had sucked her into. Turning around, Anya saw the bridge near their little scene crumble to pieces, blocking the highway.

Rumlow turned back to her, holding a gun to her forehead as a soldier of his approached them with a cell phone up, probably recording them.

“What are you doing?” Anya hissed, eyes narrowed and set defiantly on the brunet even as his hand pulled at her platinum-blonde hair and forced her on her knees on the cold hard ground beneath them. Brock merely took off the safety of the gun with his brown eyes set on hers, dead and cold.

Anya could hear Steve's shouts, demands that he let her go, the boy who wanted to save them all seeing the one link to his best friend about to get executed. She could hear Natalia's rapid breathing, and the single whispered plea of a woman on the verge of losing her family again.

But she kept her eyes on Rumlow, sure he would not let her go in silence.

He did not disappoint, taking the barrel of the gun off her skin and crouching closer to her.

“You think this was about you? What I'm about to do, what I did before? No, it never was,” He sneered at her, “It was not about you pretending to be a broken little doll inside 'till someone messed with your favorite toy.

He set his jaw, and his brown eyes steered off of hers for a few instants.

“It was never even about Selina. No. This is about Hydra, it always has been, always will be,” He straightened again, and the light of the phone the agent near them held told her the personal conversation between them was over. “This, dear Ann, was about ending the one weak link Hydra has had for years.”

“Hydra is dead.” Anya spat, but he only shook his head in response, a slight smile on burnt lips.

“Cut one head, two more will take its place.”

“Not if you burn the remains.”

“But they didn't. They were too soft, too easily swayed by a couple of familiar faces,” He retorted, cocking his head towards Steve and Natalia, on their knees before his men. “Too sentimental.

His armored hand took a hold of her chin, turning her head up as he stared at her.

“And we could have played that on our favor. We had Captain America's best fucking buddy and Black Widow's mentor, we could've destroyed them from the inside. But we couldn't. You weren't there, the Asset was not so easily controlled no more.”

“You were biting more than you could chew on, boy, and I don't mean Project Insight.” She teased with a feral smile on her lips. The man before her waved the gun in his hand back on her direction, as if in a vague threat as she set him off his manic course.

“Project Insight would have succeeded if it wasn't for how you reacted years ago when I gave your dog a beating!”

With a growl of her own, the blonde tried to stand up and get to the man before her, but Rumlow was quick to identify her intentions, throwing a swift hit to her jaw as his other fist kept her in place by her hair.

Natasha could be heard struggling with the soldiers holding her down.

“Rumlow, I swear to fucking God...just- let her go, _now!_ ”

But Anya's eyes stayed on the madman before her. 

“If I had been there, nothing would've been different.”

“Don't lie anymore, _doll,_ no point in it no more,” He said, head cocked to the side and a smirk on his lips, “You would've played one of your pretty little mind tricks on the bastard, had 'im killing Rogers without a second thought.”

Her teeth bared as she answered, “You don't know what you're talking about.”

He ignored her, and rose his voice so whatever sick message he was trying to get across in the video wouldn't be lost.

“We lost you stupidly, because of a mistake, but we shouldn't have had you in the first place. You were what unbalanced Hydra, you became dependable, and you became our weak spot.”

She laughed, knowing it would set the man off, “Don't blame your failure on me, boy.”

Rumlow's metal arm moved so fast that Anya didn' feel the pain of the hit until her right cheek collided with the hard concrete. With a groan, she lifted herself on her hands and saw I standing before her, his armored hands now clenched in fists, one around the barrel of his gun still.

He was grasping at straws, trying to keep this idea of Hydra's supremacy, of his survival and endurance, taking the mantle of something he despised for years, attempting to wear the armor of a man he could never be, not without owning his scars. He saw his world fall to pieces, the one thing he worked for his whole life be uprooted and destroyed before his very own eyes, and now he needed revenge, and he would go back for each and every one of Hydra's “mistakes” if he had to.

“Rumlow, let her go, you don't want to do this.” Steve tried reasoning from far away, drowning in his voice the Russian curses being thrown at Brock from the spy next to him.

“I got what I wanted, Captain. And I got his pretty little doll kneeling in front of me. We both know I surely wanna do this,” He got close to Anya again, aiming the gun one last time, “Say your goodbyes, Ann.”

“Anya!” Natasha screamed in what sounded too close to a sob, but the blonde couldn't take her eyes away from the barrel of the gun, the finger toying with the trigger.

“Natalia, close your eyes.” She begged, voice shaking despite wanting to pretend it was not.

“No, _sestra!”_

“Natalia, close your eyes, _now!”_

“ _Anya!”_

“Now!”

And Rumlow fired.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk, do you like it? Do you hate it? Pls tell me haha  
> Hope any of you are still around!  
> Love, Luce.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell we are reaching the end.   
> I hope you like this chapter as much as I do, because I truly loved writing it, even though words wouldn't come out quite right at times hehe.   
> Love, Luce.

Anya felt a small shock and fell to the floor, the bullet that flew past her ear still making it ring painfully.

Rumlow's arm failed him as the electrical current crawled up his armor from the small device thrown at it and reached his skin, making him shake his head to get rid of the little sensation he still got.

“Gotta do better than that.” Black Widow teased, standing up with a smile directed at the brunet even though one of his men had his arm around her neck in a headlock.

“Stark has you pinned. Safe houses, resources, contacts. You don't want to do this, Brock.” Steve tried reasoning again, but it only made Anya's heart drop.

The brunet turned to her.

“You tried playing me, girl. Thought saving the day and getting out alive was an option,” He teased, but she started shaking her head, trying to make him believe her with murmured words that this wasn't her plan. He turned to the man holding Natasha, “Let her go. Ann here made her choice again, didn't she?”

And suddenly, if Anya closed her eyes, she was back at the edge of that cliff, back at that moment just before you lose it all. If she closed her eyes, she could see Pierce's hand extended before her, Natalia's big eyes searching hers, could hear the footsteps of the Director's men approaching James, his confused questions as to why they were taking him away.

And she made a choice that day, a choice she does not regret, but cannot afford to make again.

“No! No, I didn't,” She screamed, but Brock had already taken a step back and taken his phone out. He was still toying with her, the rational part of her knew that, but the instinctual part won, and that part was screaming at her to protect what was hers. She approached Brock, arm pointing at Steve and Natasha, “Elena told them about this, I didn't. I accepted the deal and you know it.”

“Elena didn't contact us, Anya. Steve had Stark tell him.” Natalia clarified, a smile still on her lips. Her sister turned to her with a snarl.

“Will you shut up!? Fuck, Natalia. You have no idea what's at stake.”

“Then tell me! I'm not a kid anymore!”

A voice interrupted them from the speakers of every phone in the vicinity, “They are stalling. Kill them.”

_Noah? Zola would be proud, boy._

Without hesitation, Rumlow lifted his handgun, pointing it at the redhead, but just as fast Azure leaped forward and with a single hit on his arm took the aim off her sister and the gun off Brock's hands.

She craned her head back to look him in the eye, breathing slowly and putting everything in her to try and convince him. To try and make him believe her.

“The deal is with me. I am not stalling. You want my skill, I put it at your disposal. My intelligence, I will write it all down. My life, take it. She is not part of the deal.”

With a closed metal fist colliding with her chest, Anya was thrown back, only stopping when her body collided with a now empty car in the nearly-deserted freeway. Her jaw ached with how hard she was clenching it, fighting the urge to fight back, to hurt back.

“I'm not your puppet, girl.”

But when he advanced towards her, reading the mechanism in his hands that strengthened him, when a loud whirring from it stopped him from being able to move it.

Anya could hear Natalia's mocking laugh from somewhere around him, and the distinct sound of bullets ricocheting off a metal shield. Fine, apparently they were being reckless and stupid again.

But when she rose her eyes to her sister, she was still trapped in the headlock of Rumlow's soldier, who was now backing away from the fight between Steve and his attempted captors.

“Don't go up against a hacker with a cybernetic arm, you fucker!”

The blonde felt her heart stop as Elena got out of an old car she had parked near them, jumping out with a small bracelet-like computer strapped to her arm.

“Elena, what the fuck are you doing?”

Noah's voice through the speakers of their phones stopped them again, “You have made a big mistake Anya. The Interpol is gonna be in its way, you better hope the mercenaries get the-...”

 _Silence_.

Elena fist-bumped the air with a bright smile on her face, leaving her teacher watching her with her jaw slack and wide eyes. The dark skinned girl directed her gaze to her former teacher, and pointing a finger at her,

“Hoping for the best, preparing for the worst.”

“Elena...”

“He's completely offline for a while. Enough for you to get out, and Stark to secure Brasov. Hell, he'll probably secure the whole fucking country.”

They both broke their gazes away from one another as they heard a rifle being reloaded. Rumlow had finally detached the now useless armor from his arm and demanded a rifle from one of his men.

“Elena, take cover!” Azure shoved the girl in the direction of the van she had come from. Covering her head with her arms as the automatic rifle started firing at her, Anya tried to get behind anything that could keep her safe.

Steve's Shield did that for her.

With a quick shout of her name, the blonde tossed the circular piece of vibranium in her direction, and Anya covered her upper body with it as she crouched, trying to keep her legs safe too.

But Rumlow was still firing, walking towards and he could choose to move his attention from her in a second and turn the gun on Natasha or Steve. Only one thing to do came to Anya's mind.

_This better be a supersoldier thing and not a Steve thing, because if I try throwing this weird frisbee and end up handling it to Rumlow I will run to the hills and never come back._

Anya took a deep breath before changing her handle on the shield, before throwing it in the brunet's direction, hitting his legs and leaving the shield close enough for Natasha to grab it and fend off a couple of the soldiers closer to her.

Resting her back against a nearby car, the blonde took a second to catch her breath, her body still aching from Rumlow's hit that sent her so many feet back.

She saw him growl in frustration, clearly aware that his advantage was over and, now that his and Noah's blackmail of Azure had failed, there was nothing to stop her from killing him. Oh, and he was right. But she planned on doing much more before finally giving him the gift of death.

Rumlow kicked away his rifle and taking a small device from his pocket, he attached it again to his wrist, rolling his shoulders as another set of armor crawled over his arm. He was too preoccupied with armoring his right arm to notice Steve charging towards him, feet hitting the ground rhythmically as he approached the brunet man.

She watched as the supersoldier grabbed Rumlow by his shoulders, forcing him to the ground and landing a few punches on his roll in the ground with the Hydra soldier, struggling for dominance.

Blinking a couple times to clear her head, Anya took a second to look over the battle. Natalia had just trapped one of the two soldiers trying to take her down by wrapping her thighs around his neck, throwing herself and him to the floor and rolling over to stab the other one with one of her electrical knives.

Three of Rumlow's men were near the car Brock himself had gotten out from, probably trying to reestablish the connection with Noah. A few more, around a dozen, were going towards one of the SUV's they had come from, presumably to arm themselves.

Anya yelled at Natalia for the Shield, grabbing it and interrupting the men near the van as she ran towards them, managing somehow to hit one of them and drop them to the floor.

Twisting the arm of the first one who aimed a handgun at her head, Anya landed a hit on his throat and set him on the floor with a kick on the back of his knees. Another one charged towards her, this time a knife in his hand. She ignored him going for the shield instead, that had been embedded in the car behind them, using it as a lift to set her weight on the car and kick the soldier with the knife with enough force to leave him unconscious.

As she fought to disarm an agent that had managed to reach into the van and get a couple of electric knives, Anya felt a bullet run past her, and strike true on the kneecap of one of Rumlow's men who as reaching for her from behind. The man fell to the floor in pain, and Anya turned back around, blocking the woman's attempt to slice through her leg with one of the knives.

Anya heard Steve's grunt as he was thrown away from Rumlow, once he had activated the strength enhance on his gauntlets again. As the blond fell to the floor a few of Rumlow's men were running towards him. Natalia fired a few rounds at them while backing towards Anya's corner. Anya watched as two fell, one after being hit by Black widow on the chest a few times, but another one...he was in Natasha's blind spot, and he fell for a bullet to the shoulder.

Shaking her head, Anya brought her head back to the fight. Disposing of the woman with the knives after hitting her with the shield and dropping her unconscious, she called Steve's attention, throwing back the shield at him as she unsheathed her knives, watching Brock charge towards her in rage.

Natalia fired a few rounds into the soldier's body, but his mask was back on, and the rest of the vital parts of his body were well covered. Still, her sister approached her and stood at her side, while Steve took care of the few remaining agents.

Anya toyed with the knives as the brunet approached her, a feral smile on her face. When Rumlow was close enough, she swung for the first time.

He was blocking her attacks well, but she had already categorized his new armor into the equation, and was now keeping herself out of his reach. When he brought out a small automatic rifle from his back, she used the opportunity to, grabbing his arm and disarming him, wrap her legs around the upper half of his body, thighs around his head, and twisted them both around, giving Rumlow's back to Natasha and his front to...

“Sniper!” Steve warned, kneeing the last of the agents attacking him and leaving him on the ground; and Anya yelled back,

“We don't give away a sniper Stevie, not when they're helping us!”

But even despite Steve's warning, time was up. The bullet was already through Rumlow's right knee, another one quick to follow, grazing Anya's thigh but going straight into the man's shoulder; just as Natalia's electrical knives pierced his back.

The brunet fell on his knees to the floor, and Anya was quick to get off of him, walking slowly towards the rubble left by the explosion on the bridge.

A muscular man, dressed in civilian clothes but strapping a sniper rifle on his back rises and walks towards her.

They meet halfway, a metal hand grabbing Anya's forearm gently, while warm fingers leave a feather-light caress on her cheek.

“ _Ești nevătămat, nu_?” James asks softly, grey-blue eyes searching hers. 

Anya smiles, and pretends not to feel her eyes swell with tears.

“ _Da_.” She whispers back.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations are for Romanian (I'll explain why later hehe): "You are unharmed, right?" "Yes" Respectively.   
> Soooooo? What do you think!? Please let me know!!  
> Love, Luce.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what's going on with me, but I'm writing a lot lately.  
> I tried showing a little bit of Anya's softer side in this fic, considering she is kind of soft towards Nat but there's always that "big sister" thing going on where she wants her to do better and wants her to not get attached to her and everything. So I hope I showed the more mushy, or nurturing side of my girl in this chap.  
> ALSO Listen to Paralyzed by NF. Please. Just...listen to it. Srsly. You won't regret it.  
> Anyhow, I hope you guys enjoy!  
> Love, Luce

 She stood still for what felt like an eternity. She wanted to yell, to curse at him and scream to ask why did he risk it for her,why make himself seen again for something as trivial as her. She wanted to resent him to ask why he ran from her when Project Insight failed and he finally got away. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go again.

She wanted to do so much, but could only stay there, watching him, eyes on his and trying not to feel cold when his fingers stopped their uncertain trace of her cheek.

“It's been a long time, my love.” She whispered, voice failing her at the end, a tremolous smile attempting to settle on her lips.

He blinked, one, two times. Looked at her like it was the first time seeing her.

“...Ann?”

_Please, no._

“Bucky?” Steve's voice broke them apart, and suddenly she could hear the sound of two pairs of footsteps fastly approaching them, the falter in the heavier set.

James' arm wrapped around her waist to move her to his side, right hand reaching for the hangun near his thigh and breathing back into the rapid pattern she became so sadly accustomed to in their last years together.

Natalia's eyes flew from Steve to Anya, and the two spies shared a concerned gaze for a few instants, before Anya took a deep breath, calming her mind and place dher hand gently on his back, between his shoulder blades.

She tried to pretend she didn't notice him flinch at the touch.

“He's Steve. You've known him for so long. Do you...do you remember?” She whispered, sure even Steve would have a hard time catching her words.

“Nu,” He didn't turn to her as he answered, eyes still on the threat. “El este sarcină mea.”

She remembers whispered conversations in the midst of the chaos that was Siberia. She remembers a tantrum in the form of a red-headed girl when secrets and promises were shared in a language almost of their own.

She remembers it being the one thing that was entirely _theirs._

“Suntem în siguranță acum, dragul meu.” The language is still hard on her tongue, even after all these years, “Și Soldatul de Iarnă e mort.”

His hand moved away from the holstered gun, and she repressed a sigh of relief. Finally, he turned to her, jaw set tight and haunted eyes meeting hers.

“No, I'm not.” He whispered eyes dropping from hers, twisting the knife at her heart.

__

He didn't say anything else, not a word as Natasha talked Steve out of trying to reach Bucky with whispered words that somehow reached the man with the tearful blue eyes. Not a word as Elena handled her an adress and a electronic key, and told them to lay low until Noah was captured and Rumlow sent into the darkest hole they could find.

Not a word as Anya walked away from him and towards the handcuffed and barely conscious Hydra soldier standing weakly near Natasha as they readied to leave.

But she knew he was following her with his eyes, ready to stand at her back again if he felt she needed it. A part of her thanked whatever wanted to listenthatat least some part of him still remembered her.

Azure leaned closer to Brock's face and smiled,

“Well?” She teased, “He outranks you, dog. Salute.”

Rumlow merely kept his eyes on hers, not betraying anything. She kept her smile on, even let out a hoarse, mocking laugh. Taking off the glove on her left hand, she continued,

“I don't forget, Brock,” In a quick move, sharp nails pierced his skin, again the blood flowing down her hand as she pressed against his throat. She leaned into his ear, and promised, “You will escape once you are strong enough, and you will contact whatever is left of Hydra. You will let them know they will have to _kill_ me to try to get to him again. You will let them know I will see them die trying.”

She let him go with disgust marring her face as his blood threatened to stain her, and cleaned heself on his clothes, putting enough pressure on his shoulder wound to causehim at least a little bit of pain before she turned around and walked away.

The blonde signaled Natalia to come closer, and brought her close once the redhead was within her grasp.

“I will wait for you in the safe-house Elena gave us. Take care of that old man while I'm not there, okay?”

Natalia nodded, wrapping her arms around her sister and hugging her tight. “Stay safe.”

__

_I don't even know if he remembers my name._

Anya kept her eyes strictly on the nearly empty road, refusing to see the man sitting beside her. She was afraid he wouldn't recognize her, or worse, she wouldn't recognize him.

He hadn't said a word yet. Nothing, not even as she asked him to get into the car with her, as Elena thanked him and called him "Sargeant Barnes" as she waved them goodbye, not even as the figures of Steve and Natasha got smaller and smaller in the distance, the supersoldier clinging to the redheaded spy's hand as if it were his lifeline as he watched his bestfriend slip from his grasp once again.

And Anya was afraid. She was afraid that he reverted to old patterns, old rules that she should've killed the rulers for imposing on him. She was afraid he was following his Handler, not her.

She was afraid. She didn''t know how to react, didn't know how to help, didn't know if he even wants her help, or if she can help him at all.

_If he remebers me at all._

She didn't realize her right leg was bobbing up and down as she waited for the light to change until she felt a cold metal hand landing softly on her thigh.

Uncertain gray eyes rose to hers only for an instant, to then look back down at her thigh, where his hand was still.

“You are hurt.” He whispered, almost to himself.

Looking down, Anya saw the gash on her inner thigh from when James shot Rumlow in the shoulder as her legs held him still. It's bleeding, not too much to be a concern, and she hadn't even noticed until he pointed it out.

Almost in a mix between disbelief and relief, Anya breathed a laugh, “It doesn't hurt.”

His hand left her leg as the light changed, and if it weren't for Noah's crazy self still walking free, she would've shot the stoplight and stayed there until she could figure out how to go back to...to _when?_

She watched from the corner of her eye as he settled once again on the seat, arms on his lap and head turned to look out the window the night that flew past them as she sped out again.

“You are lying.”

She smiled. She could hear a little bit of the cocky boy that went to war, of the stubborn man that followed her back. She could hear a bit of the man she spent years alongside of, the same that spotted all her lies with a smirk and a lifted eyebrow, the same that left a secret touch on her waist on his way through a hallway in a cold facility that wanted them to forget their own names, the same that sneaked into her room every night for years on Belarus despite her protests of how dangerous it was, whispering a kiss against her lips before falling asleep next to her.

“Maybe.” She conceded.

With a stolen glance at him, she saw his left hand being clenched into a fist and released several times in a nervous gesture. Deciding to bide her time, she kept silent, and waited for him to tell her what was in his mind.

“D-Did you do that...before?”

“Get hurt? Not really. I had you watching my six, dear.” She responded autimatically with an easy smile on her lips, although she knew she was evading the question grossly.

He persisted with a single, “Lie.”

Anya swallowed past her fear, past her anger, and past her shame that a man like him had to wonder how much of what he remembered was an illusion, a fabrication. She did not want to imagine, if he remembered anything about her at all, how much of that he believed to be lies, empty promises to keep the _Asset_ compliant for a while longer.

Slowing the car, she turned to see him. She could barely remember the last time she stood in front of him, less alone how he looked to her in that moment. But now, hair covering his profile, eyes set firmly on the world outside of the car, metal hand still moving in nervous spasms, she blinks back tears and prays he reaches the peace he deserves, the peace he is owed by this world that failed him.

For now, she can only grant him one peace, one truth.

“James,” She whispered, a sad smile twisting her lips when he turned to her, “You always read past my lies.”

A beat of silence went between them, and somehow Anya's eart had gotten a lot less heavy. She heard him let out a breath, and a little whisper was the last thing said until they got to the house,

“Your eyes give you away.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many little things I wanna share with you guys about this chapter! Do you remember when the first line Azure said to Rumlow in this chapter is from? (psst, chap 21)  
> Anyhow, here are the translations:  
> "No, he is my mission." "We are safe now, my love. And the Winter Soldier is dead."  
> Also, if you want check out the other work in this series (this is now a series omg), it's a short chap on Bucky's PoV that sets the tone a little for what is to come in the next chapters and explains how he got there to the bridge and Rumlow stand down scene.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter before the epilogue, folks.   
> This was a very emotional chapter to write. I don't usually cry when I write, but I did get choked up a couple of times. Suit up hehe.  
> Love, Luce.

They stepped into the house and the first thing she did after locking the door behind them is turn around to face James.

He quickly signed her to know if there are listeners, and she was forced to reply, bringing her right hand to her forehead, that she doesn't know in the same language. She watched him nod in understanding and notice her he would be scoping the southern part of the small house as he took out his handgun.

Anya hated it. Hated that they couldn't catch a breath, hated that he couldn't feel safe anymore, hated feeling so helpless.

But still she took out her knife and walked around the other part of the home, checking mirrors, corners and every little place she knew of where some sort of microphone or hidden device could have been.

They met in the small kitchen of the home nearly at the same time, James arriving a few seconds behind Anya, who was now leaning with her elbows on one of the counters. He walked until he was in front of her, and he hesitated for a fraction of a second too long as he debated what to do with the gun in his hand, eyes quickly calculating for the space on the counter next to her.

_No. Please, don't._

He didn't let go of the gun though, and the Russian hid a sigh of relief. Holstering back into his thigh, he looked at her for a few minutes, starting from her platinum-blonde hair, now only a little longer than his own, when before it had been so long the girls would take turns braiding it; down her neck, where she knows there's a dark bruise forming from Rumlow's hand wrapping around her throat; down her body to her injured thigh, where he stopped for a few seconds, before bringing his eyes back up to hers.

Anya cleared her throat, and started talking, because she couldn't stand the sound of her own thoughts anymore.

“So, where have you been?”

He didn't answer. Turning his muscular back to her, James walked back again to the southern part of the home. Anya swore her heart stopped beating for a few seconds.

But he came back, holding a small white box and settling on the counter before her. She could only stare at him.

He shrugged, “Everywhere. It has been...quieter this past few weeks.”

“But you were following me.” She blurted out. He kept his gaze on the box, which he carefully opened, taking out what seemed to be first aid supplies.

“I was.”

“Why didn't you...Why didn't you contact me?” She hated how her voice had gotten more and more fragile the more seconds passed, “You were so close!”

He kept taking out the supplies, settling them on the counter before her. He must've noticed her lack of interest on healing her own wounds right now, because he finally sighed, leaning away from the supplies and bringing his stormy eyes back to her icy-blue ones.

“I had to make sure.”

“Make sure of what?”

His gaze fell away from hers, and he blinked forcefully a couple of times, as if settling his mind about what he sees, what he believes.

“Make sure you were real.”

“What?” She sputtered, walking around the counter to go to his side. She stopped when he winced, taking a step back away from her.

He shrugged, again. She was starting to hate that.

“You could've been a-a bait. I...there was no way to be sure.”

“Where did you think 'real' me was, then, if it could have been a bait?” She asked, although she had a feeling she knew the answer.

“Dead,” He ran his flesh hand through his hair, a whirring sound accompanying him as he rested his metal arm on the counter at his side. “I killed you. I killed you _so many times_ and I didn't...I couldn't...I don't know, Ann, I...”

“You didn't.” She assured.

“Yes, I did. I _know_ that.” He refused stubbornly, clenching his jaw and shaking his head. Anya saw the way he clenched and unclenched his metal hand, and her heart broke for him.

“I killed you, and I-I saw you shake when th-the poison started...working. I _know_ that. I _remember_ that. I held you and I had to say goodbye and you died, you died while I held you and you died because _I did it!”_

His breathing was getting too fast, too erratic and she could see his shoulders rising and falling with too much speed. Getting closer again, she lifted a hand, only to see a well-hid flinch, in what told her was a practiced gesture of hiding his fear, his distrust.

“James, love, I'm going to need you to calm down. Breathe for me.”

He still wouldn't look at her, eyes focused on the metal hand that kept clenching and unclenching. Tight, loose, tight, loose. But either way he followed her breathing for a few instants, and she extended once again a hand between them, slowly.

“I'm going to touch you now, is that okay?” He nodded, but it was too fast, too automatic of a response for her to settle with. She continued, “Don't answer what you think I want to hear. Tell me what you want, love.”

Finally, his eyes rose to hers, a sad, uneven, shaky smile on full lips.

“I don't know what I want.”

She opened her mouth, but no sound could come out. She gathered she should've felt numb, she should've felt sorrow, she should've felt anything less than rage. But she didn't. She only felt the scorching heat of rage, of primal desire to see ruination in the souls of those who dared lay a hand on him, dared play with his mind, with his soul.

But she knew it would do nothing. Like she had known killing that Sargeant in the Alps, the man responsible for her brother's death, would do nothing to bring him back.

She couldn't, no matter how much red she tainted her hands with, cleanse the blood from _his_ hands, whether it be others' or his own.

Her voice broke, and she felt a few errant tears fall down her cheeks, “W-What do you need? I...I don't know what to do, James, how to...how to h-help.”

“I don't know either!” The scream bounced off the walls, and he fell into the stool next to the counter as if all the strength had left his body. His lip trembled along with his voice, “I don't...I'm just so _tired_ , Ann, I...”

“It's okay. It's over.”

“It's not. I don't think it will ever be,” He was looking at her as if begging for her eyes to hold the answer, to hold a truth he couldn't see, to show him a future where he could finally _be_. She watched a tear roll down his cheek, disappear into his stubble. Several of her own accompanied it down her own cheeks as his voice turned childlike, lost, “They're in my head, doll.”

“ _James..._ ” It's all that left her lips, hand stretched still between them, tears brimming in her icy-blue eyes. His eyes followed a path down to her hand. She watched him consider her, and swallow slowly clenching his jaw and readying himself. He looked up again, and nodded.

She understood.

A trembling hand reached up to his cheek, thumb wiping away a tear as she stepped even closer, standing between his legs as he sat on the stool. 

He looked up with a guarded expression, fear hidden deeply in those gray-blue pools she had loved for so long. She smiled, a shaky smile that did nothing to stop the flow of tears down her cheeks; but it managed to make his frame loosen, his breath finally leave his lungs. 

“They may have attempted to control your mind once, but they didn't win, _lyubov moya_. You know how I know?

He merely looked up at her, and she let her fingers trace over his cheekbone, his soft stubble, familiarizing herself again with the features she had once believed to be lost forever.

“Steve. You saved him,” She continued, “You dragged him out of the water and you made sure he was safe.”

But he shook his head again, “I didn't even know why I was doing that.”

“You don't have to know, not now. You just have to remember that some part of you, some part of you that you managed to keep alive this long, does know. We'll figure out the rest.”

“But I'm not going to be _him_ again, Ann. I...I'm not Bucky anymore, I just...I just have some of his memories.”

She kept her smile, hand still caressing his rough skin. She pretended not to notice the way he had started to lean into her touch, pretended not to notice the way her heart filled with that treacherous and apparently unkillable  _hope_ .

“Then don't be him. Figure out who you want to be, between Bucky's memories, the Soldat's sins. I'll be with you for as long as you want me to be, and we'll figure it out, together.”

The first actually joyful smile she had seen in his face in so long twisted his lips upwards, merely a curve, but it was enough. It was enough for the way his eyes shone a little bit more, for the way some invisible weight seemed to be lifted off his shoulders, if only for an instant.

Anya was surprised when he bent forward, resting his head gently over her chest, forehead pressed to her neck and body lax against her; but she managed to keep her composure. Her hand fell from his face, and she whispered a request of permission for her to touch his hair.

James thought about it for a few seconds, and it settled her soul a bit that he was no longer reacting with what he thought would please her or what he was supposed to do.

“Please.” He conceded, and she was more than happy to oblige.

__

She had lost count of the time they spent sitting on that small kitchen, his large muscular body bent over, resting on her small frame. She had closed her eyes a while ago, chin perched on the top of his head as they breathed in tandem. But when she felt her body sway with the temptation to succumb to sleep; she saw herself forced to end their contact.

A quick call to her sister as he showered and Anya feels happy for the first time in...since Belarus.

Natalia told her about how she and Steve were handling the situation the best they could, considering Rumlow's act had been too public and it had gathered the attention of international councils and organizations. They wanted the story of the Winter Soldier. They wanted a trial, for both him and Azure.

Black Widow assured her that the only thing left now to do was paperwork concerning Rumlow's and Noah's apprehension. When Anya asked about the possibility of Interpol or any other entity meddling, her sister assured her she had  _put their concerns to rest._

The former Black Widow trainer decided not to ask any more questions, and went ahead to instead tell her sister she would be waiting for her in the morning and bid her goodnight.

She showered, washing off the pain of the day, the grime of battle. She closed her eyes and thought of her family. She thought of her mother, and thanked her for everything she had thought her about who she was and who she could be. She thought of her father, and thanked him for teaching her about love, about giving your heart away with no intention of getting it back. She thought of Matvei, and thanked him for leading by example to not fear anything at all, for teaching her to live life as if death is waiting on the other side of the corner. She thought of Alexei, and thanked her big brother for everything she was, for everything he had done and for everything he once meant to her.

She thought of everyone she had lost on the way to that moment, and asked them one thing. If happiness was a lie, to be lied to as much as she had once done. If peace was a lie too, to be able to lie to the man she loved and grant him that one thing, if any. 

If they could see them, if they were watching over them, to grant them a second chance at life. 

“Ann?” She heard him ask lowly in the dark, once they had settled their wary bodies on the bed. 

“Yes?”

Their arms lied close, close enough to touch, but Anya had decided she would not be the one to initiate contact. The gentle whisper of a touch was traced over her and, with a simple movement, metal fingers were intertwined with her own.

“Will you tell me what is real?” He sounded insecure, he sounded lost. But he also sounded resolute, he sounded a little bit more like the man she had heard whispering about how she was both his doom and his salvation in a lonely prison on the Alps. 

And that was enough.

“Tell me what you remember.” She asked.

And he started telling her his story, just as he remembered it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I owe Anya and the world owes Bucky a happy ending, but I want to respect as much of the written character's and Seb's performance's characterization of Bucky as I can, and I honestly do not believe love fixes it all. I believe it's gonna be something that will take time and effort, and it's going to be riddled with ups and downs. Will they get their happy ending? Yes, but it won't be an easy road to it.   
> Maybe one day I will be brave enough to try to write that process, but for today, I leave you with this chapter. I hope you enjoy, and I long to see your comments down below about what you think of this.   
> Love, Luce.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Fuck this is it. I wanna cry. It's been so long and I love this story so much.  
> I cannot express how much I love each and every one of you, the ones that commented on every chapter, the ones that never commented but always read my work with a smile and kind thoughts, the ones with the questions, the ones that left kudos. Each and every one of you has made me incredibly happy. Each and every one of you has become one little voice in my head to fight the insecurities, to make me push forward and write despite de fear, the shame, the doubt.  
> I love all of you, so so SO much. Without meaning, you made a big difference in my life, maybe without even realizing. And I cannot thank you enough for that, for giving my work a chance, for supporting me and going through this whole process with me.  
> I'm getting sappy, I know, but I'm allowed.  
> I am honestly thankful to all of you, and I hope I'll see you around on my incoming one-shots for this universe, or maybe the sequel.  
> Love, Luce.

It's early in the morning, that is as much as she knows, and that at some point in the late night they both dozed off, throats sore from talking, eyes dry from wasting tears on the past. Still, she felt him shuffle in bed around five in the morning, and woke up.

Anya opened her eyes slowly, and saw James leaned on the headboard, a small piece of paper and a pen in his hands.

“What are you writing?” She asked, voice soft and scratchy from disuse. It still made him smile.

He shrugged again. She didn't hate it as much anymore, “Thoughts.”

With a content hum, the blonde turned on her back and stretched her still battered body, the bruises and cracks from Rumlow's assault still fresh on her body.

“You told me I should think about who I want to be.”

She didn't open her eyes at his words, she had a feeling he was talking because she couldn't see him.

“Yes.” She answered, simply, and waited for him to continue.

“I know who I want to be. I want to be James. Not the Bucky Steve remembers, not the Barnes Natalia knew, not the Winter Soldier Hydra want. I want to be James. I want to be the man _you_ know.

She heard him fold the piece of paper in his hands, and the pen fall to the floor. For the second time since they had arrived, his metal hand reached for her small one, only this time, instead of folding them together, he toyed with her hand, fingers tracing veins, bones, and little scars.

“You...you have been like this...thread, like a thin golden thread tying everything together. You have been the one _light_ constant I have had in my life since...I think since before I met you.

He paused for a few seconds, and Anya could picture him trying to piece together the words in his head before he spoke.

“W-When I start thinking of everything, and I try to piece all those memories together, I...I see so much darkness, so many blank spaces, but, but then there's _you_ , you are always there. And you remind me of happiness and love and softness and...I want to be that man again, Ann. I want to be the man you love.”

Finally, she opened her eyes. Sitting up in the bed so she could be closer to him, she met his gaze with her own, and lifted a hand between them.

He eyed her hand for a few seconds, and then nodded in permission. The blonde smiled, tracing his features again. Slowly, lazily, because she could. Because they had earned it.

“You already are. But whatever you want to do to figure out who that man is, I will be at your side.”

__

When Natasha and Steve arrive at the safe house nearing midday, the place was empty.

Only a simple note left on the bed, one vibranium-alloy knife laid to rest next to it, and it feels strange for the spy to see it without its pair.

_Natalia, I'm sorry. I promise I'll come back, one day._

_I will always watch over you, never doubt that. And never doubt that I will come back for my sister._

_Just know we are safe, and I love you._

Under the elegant and fine writing there's another little phrase,

_I have to find out who I am before I can answer if Bucky is alive or not, Steve. I hope you understand._

_Natalia, do me a favor and take care of him. He is too much of a good man for his own good._

Natasha blinks back a fine layer of tears from her eyes, fingers tracing lightly over the last words of her sister.

Steve clears his throat, and with a still choked up voice, points at the bottom right of the paper, where a simple _Anya and James_ is written; followed by a little blemish. “Is that...pink nail polish?”

Natasha smiles, tears finally falling and marring the paper a bit, “Yes, the ugliest pink I have ever seen.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the pink nail polish was a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of thing, but I had that last scene planned out since the beginning hehe. (Its on chap 26, at the very end, it's a promise between Anya and the girls)  
> If you miss me too much -I know, I am so awesome you can't help to get attached to me, baby I get it /s- you can visit me on my Tumblr hehehe! bucky-is-a-hero-fightme.tumblr.com.  
> Love, Luce.

**Author's Note:**

> Hii! Hope you are enjoying this mess, hehe.  
> If you want, support my work by buying me a coffee!  
> Here: http://ko-fi.com/A371QOG


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